

Sonora IV

By: G. F. Hellstern

Illustrations: Michelle Munger

Smashwords EDITION

Sonora IV

© 2012 Smashwords

All characters in this book are fictitious. Any relationship to actual persons, living or dead is purely coincidental.

This book is protected under the copyright laws of the United States of America. Any reproduction or unauthorized use of the material or artwork contained herin is prohibited without the express written conent of G. F. Hellstern.

PUBLISHED BY G. F. Hellstern on Smashwords.

Cover art by Michelle Munger.

This Edition First Printing: 2012

ISBN 9781470180782

Sonora IV

Copyright © 2014 by G. F. Hellstern

gfhellstern.blogspot.com

* * * * *

To Tyler and Samuel

Book 1

The Trevino Family

Chapter 1, The Mine

A rustle of movement whispered down the lonely mine corridor. Josué turned in time to see a flicker of robe and dark-brown hair disappear beneath the rafter's dirty light. Stepping against the wall, he switched off his headlamp.

The silent tunnel seemed still as death. A solitary drip echoed against the red walls. How could a girl be this deep in the mine, he wondered. His father didn't employ any female _mine workers_ and . . . hadn't she worn a native robe?

Crouching into a sitting position, he waited to see if she would come back. Not that he'd have the guts to talk to her if she did. He'd never spoken to a native before, let alone a girl. Did they even speak his language?

He sat further into the crevice, unable to decide if he wanted to be there when she returned or not. What would he say? Hi, my father owns this gold mine. Do you like its design? Or – he could ask about his mother. Maybe she came from the same village or knew someone who came from his mother's village. He could ask if she knew someone with the name of Thetis.

He leaned forward to get up, feeling silly for even having thought about his mother. At fifteen, he didn't need a mother. Besides, she had left a long time ago.

As he moved, the rock gave way. His stomach lurched. Dirt scraped up his back as he slid down a narrow shaft into darkness.

Landing in a disoriented heap, he coughed at the dust around him.

His nurse had told him his lungs were sensitive, something to do with an accident at birth. He covered his mouth with the back of his hand and tried not to let the fear of suffocation take hold. It wasn't claustrophobia. He loved caves, especially his father's gold mine. It was just the feeling of not getting enough air into his lungs, of not being able to take a deep enough breath. Placing his hand on his chest he sucked air in and gagged before he blew it out.

He pushed against his eyelids with gritty palms then turned his helmet lamp back on. Sand covered the cavern floor in a golden circle. Sand fell off his jacket. Sand shook out of his hair. It was everywhere.

Coughing at it, he blew a gap in the smooth pattern then sat back. Forcing his fingers to calmly remove his canteen cap, he drank deeply then looked around.

This room wasn't on any of the maps he'd seen! Goosebumps danced on his arm. He had found something new.

Brushing off his leg and the arm of his leather coat, he peered along one side of the room. Stagnant water filled a rock basin. He could feel his heartbeat in his fingertips. Gold deposits formed in the presence of water.

He bit his lip. Could he have found El Umbral? The ancient mine of the natives! Could this be the cavern leading to the fabled gold? Maybe the girl above had been sent to keep him away from it. His steps grew longer as he searched.

Umbral had been his favorite bedtime story. All he ever wanted was to find that mine. His mother would be sure to hear about him then. And the gold! His father said the gold there would rival any discovered in the Galaxy.

When he came to a dead end at the far corner, his heart sank. Not even crystal quartz. He slid his finger along the rock, punched the wall then regretted he'd done such a painful action.

Shuffling back to the shaft he'd fallen down, he set his foot against the stones and shoved himself up and out.

In the main tunnel, he opened his canteen and drank until the last drop landed on his tongue then popped the top back on. Without water, he'd have to go back to the surface. He kicked a rock down the shaft he'd just fallen into.

Rubbing at his eye, he was startled to see everything had a funny yellow look to it. Sand tickled his knuckles before dripping down his cheek.

He rolled his shoulders. An eerie sensation of someone watching tingled in his neck. Pulling out his map, he looked to make sure he hadn't crossed the property line.

The glint of a blaster muzzle caught his attention in the dim mine light. Timeos' evil smile glowered at him.

Josué dropped the map and raised his hands. "I was just about to check."

"Too late, kid." Timeos only had three years on Josué, but he acted like the Omri Foreman himself.

Grinning, Josué stepped back. "I'll go. No need for a stun blast." He rubbed at his eye again. Everything seemed so yellow in the light. Had the sand done this to him?

"Don't worry, half-breed." Timeos steadied his gun. "I won't use stun."

Josué heel hit the back wall. A cloud of dust puffed out of his jacket, forcing an uncontrollable sneeze that jerked his head forward. Super-heated air blew past his ear.

He stared at the scorch mark on the wall. Timeos had set the gun to kill!

Before he had time for another shot, Josué threw his helmet at him and ran down the tunnel toward his viper.

A second blast slammed into the wall. Rock slivers pelted his neck.

Air pushed tears to the corners of his eyes as he rounded a bend. His foot caught on a loose stone, pitching him forward. The heat of another bolt passed over him. The slab in front of him shattered.

To his right, the viper's sleek-black frame perched on the edge of the exit shaft, ready to launch him up and out. Josué leapfrogged onto the seat and hit the starter. The sound of footsteps told him it would be close.

Revving the engine and pushing off with shaky legs, Josué toppled into the mile-long exit shaft stretching into darkness below him. Another blast hurled past his ear. The viper nose tilted up. The accelerator caught. Gripping the seat with his knees, Josué shot past Timeos, aiming his jet-wash at him then burst into the Sonoran sunshine.

Chapter 2, Lessons

Looking out over the valley, Josué wiped his hand across his eyes. The trembling in his limbs now rocked his sides. Suppressing the urge to cry, he angled his jet bike toward two large sauropods wading in the marsh below him.

Eddies swirled under his boots as he flew over the marsh. Droplets splashed up and around his bike, glistening in the golden sun. Tilting his head back to stop the tears, he watched humongous jaws holding mounds of crushed greenery high over his head. A drip fell on his shoulder, kissing his cheek with the smell of marshweed and dinosaur.

He was safe now. Timeos would have to go back to the Omri side before he could get out of the mine.

Spinning to a stop, he tried to catch his breath. The warmth of the sun against his back and the smell of leather from his jacket steadied him.

His fingers trembled as he ran them through his hair. Had Timeos lost his mind? The kid didn't like him, but to try and kill him? Josué's insides felt like melted butter. He regretted having drunk all of that water in the mine.

Pounding his fist into his handle bars, he rested his head against his arm and tried once more not to cry. He'd been taught to face danger. Couldn't he have handled Timeos? He would have to do better at training. Timeos' bullying would have to stop. He'd show the Omri kid what a half-breed _could_ do.

Training! The sun sat low on the horizon. It was later than he'd thought. Master Héctor would be waiting. He turned the viper in the direction of home and kicked it into gear. The last time he'd been late for practice he'd had to sit in the leaning rest for half an hour.

***

Weapons Master Héctor sat in the middle of the room, legs crossed, palms up. "You're late!" His commanding voice echoed against the wooden weapons racks.

Tan mats lined the floor. A set of mirrors hung against the back wall. Josué caught sight of a frown on the trainer's face. "Yes, Master." He bowed, fist in his hand then drew his breath in as he stumbled over the dojo mat.

"No excuses?" Master Héctor raised an eyebrow.

"No excuses, Master." Josué pushed the thoughts of Timeos out of his mind. He'd figure out why the boy had tried to kill him later. It was best not to bring it up now. Beside, he'd only feel ashamed he hadn't remembered a single lesson, or even thought of disarming Timeos till now. He grimaced at his sacrificed helmet. He'd have to get a new one before anyone noticed.

"Enough time wasted then." Héctor pulled a longpole from the rack and threw it to Josué.

The boy snatched it from the air, thankful to have avoided a punishment. Here was his chance to turn his mind to something else and to prepare for the next encounter.

"Show me your stance." Héctor stood, hands on his hips.

Josué twirled the pole around his body and crouched, letting it rest along his shoulders. Eyes glued on Héctor, his chest rose and fell. If only he had had this weapon in the mine.

"Not bad." His master walked to the weapons wall and grabbed a rod of his own then leapt into the air.

Josué raised his defense. The vibration of Hector's strike ran down his arm. The force of the blow pushed him back a step.

A second attack came from the side. Josué blocked it with a swift motion.

As Héctor's strikes increased in fury, Josué's vision began to yellow. Calm spread through him. His shoulders felt freer, his arms loose. The new sight brought clarity. Josué moved with a fluidity he'd never experienced before. He blocked hit after hit, as if he knew what his master was doing before he did it.

In a burst of confidence he jumped, swung to his left and landed a smashing blow on his master's stick. Flipping backward, Josué twirled his pole and resumed his stance. His breathing felt controlled and filled him with energy. If Timeos were here now, things would be different!

"You have improved. You will be ready for the tournament soon." Héctor shook his head as he walked over to the cooler.

Josué eyed a crack running down the middle of his master's pole and raised an eyebrow. Watching his teacher swallow an entire cup of water and wipe his face with a towel, he almost believed he had impressed the man.

"We'll see how well you do next time." Héctor left the room, still shaking his head.

Josué smiled and watched his master cross under the covered corridor between the gym and manor.

The square shoulders of his father filled the doorframe. "What did you do to _him_?" His father aimed a wry smile in Héctor's direction.

Seeing his father reminded Josué of the mine and Timeos. He set his shoulders. Maybe Timeos would sign up for the tournament. They could settle things there.

"Get dressed. Enrique has something to show us. I know you'll be interested."

"Has he finished the new blaster?"

"You'll see," though his father's grin was a clear 'yes.'

After changing his clothes and running down the hall. Josué met his father at the front of the house. The two of them stepped through the manor doorway and into the warm evening air. The night sun perched on the rim to their right, getting ready to make its abbreviated orbit across the western half of the red sky.

The groan of a raptor broke the stillness of the horizon.

Eying the shadowy wall around the compound perimeter, Josué stepped closer to his dad.

They crossed the bridge to the lab, palm trees reflecting the green and blue water lights. The manor buildings hunched against the stars like black sauropods. The rounded lab lay over a low hill, fluorescent-white lights showed through four high-set windows.

Nothing looked yellow anymore. Josué smiled.

From the open door his father held, he could see Enrique waiting for them in the anteroom with Chico and Raul. A thin black tube dangled from a clip on the man's collar, extending down his arm.

"Sires, it is my pleasure to have you here tonight. I assure you, you will be impressed with our progress." Enrique led them through two white doors and into a large room. A small table stood in the center, a slab of rock at the far end. On the table lay what looked like the barrel of a blaster, its firing mechanism replaced with an oblong, golden box.

Porfirio walked over to it, a glint of hunger in his eyes. "This is it?"

"Yes, Sire." Enrique's expression matched Josué's father's. His fingers fumbled to get the clip off his shirt. "Chico, connect the voice cable for His Excellency."

Chico and Raul jumped to assist Porfirio, connecting the tube to the blaster frame. With so many hands reaching, Josué was sure something would break. Miraculously, nothing did.

When they were done, his father stood like he'd been dressed in a glass suit. Porfirio turned to Enrique, holding the weapon with both hands.

"There, – aim it." The three white-coated individuals stepped back in unison. Josué had to scramble out of their way to keep from being stepped on.

His father shifted his stance and raised the weapon. "Now?"

"Give a command into the microphone."

Josué held his breath and glanced at Enrique. Hope and fragile confidence were written on the engineer's face.

Porfirio looked at the blaster barrel, pointed it at the rock and said, "Go."

The word caught in the device, echoing with a thousand whispers before washing around the room and exploding into the top corner of the rock. It shattered. Everyone smiled.

"Make a note, Raul." Enrique leaned over his assistant's shoulder. "Too much feedback. Adjust the gain."

Porfirio crossed the room and bent to pick up pieces of the rock. "Did you see, Josué? Feel it."

Josué bent down next to his father. The broken rock felt warm to his touch.

"Ingenious, Enrique. You've outdone yourself." Porfirio smiled. "Can Josué have a try?"

Looking at the chief engineer, Josué held his breath. He'd only been allowed to fire a blaster once in his life.

Enrique nodded.

Unable to believe his opportunity, Josué hurried across the room. His foot caught against a tile. Desperately catching himself, he fell against the table. His heart stopped as the weapon slid over the edge. Grabbing at the voice cable, he barely managed to halt the gun inches from the floor.

Josué searched the Chief Engineer's face. Had he blown his only chance to fire this weapon? Thankfully, Enrique simply rescued the dangling gun, placed it back on the table with a frown then helped Josué connect the cable to his shirt.

With everyone in their places, Josué adjusted the mike to his collar. Puzzling over the amber glow outlining the gun's far site, he shrugged his shoulders and shouted, "Kiah!"

The noise amplified louder this time. The weapon kicked in his hand as the entire rock crumbled into dust. The wall behind it buckled. Windows shattered. Glass rained onto the floor.

A chill went down Josué's spine. "Whoa!"

"Excellent!" Porfirio clapped Enrique on the shoulder. "How many can you build? And how soon?"

***

Josué swallowed down a bite of dinner later that night and turned to his father, clearing his throat. "I um, got turned around in the mine this afternoon . . . Timeos took a shot – or two – at me. I got out, but the way the rocks exploded, his blaster wasn't on stun." Josué looked down, feeling like a tattle-tale.

Porfirio furrowed his brow and hunched over his meal. "Timeos knows who you are. Were you over the property line?"

Josué tried to remember if he _had_ been on Omri property. His viper had been close enough. "No." He shook his head. "I couldn't have been over the property line."

"I'll speak with Ormand about it. Keep away from the mine for a while. Leonard's agents have reported . . . ." His father caught himself and put on a tired smile. "Let's just say there is _activity_ in the Omri household. No need to give Timeos another opportunity." He winked and took a sip of wine.

Josué took a sip of his own drink and looked at his plate, wondering what kind of _activity_ his father meant.

"Tomorrow, I'll take you with me and show you the new property. There's a native village on it. Your mother was native, though some thought her to be more than that."

Josué wrinkled his brow.

His father smiled. "Some said she had the blood of the divine in her."

"Divine?"

"She had her ways, and didn't care for mine. Maybe it was best she left."

Josué watched his father swallow and felt sure he meant the opposite.

***

Several hours later he rested his forehead against his bedroom window. In the glow of the night sun, the pathway through the manor compound looked like a river of lava pouring out from the manor grounds. Beyond the compound walls, the jungle canopy lay like a wrinkled cloth spread over the rolling hills.

He breathed a thin circle of fog onto the half-open pane and wiped at the spot. As his hand passed in front of his eyes he thought he saw a shadow dart from the compound wall and duck behind a palm tree. In the darkness of the courtyard he couldn't be sure if it was a bulky shape hiding behind the tree's trunk or a lump from a missing limb.

He punched at his foot just as the shadow moved again. Sure he saw it now he moved to stand to his feet. Someone was in the courtyard making a dash for the house!

His father's muffled voice interrupted the cry of alarm in his throat. "It's about time you showed up."

"Shhh! What are you doing outside?" the stranger hissed. "What if I've been followed?"

Josué started back from the window, tripping over his useless foot. A million pinpricks told him it had been asleep for a long time.

"I installed an obfuscator earlier this week." Porfirio's proud voice echoed across the grounds. "Not even a satellite can hear or see anything in the whole compound. It's safe. Come on in."

The voices continued in muffled tones below him. Josué remained on the carpet, pressing his ear to the floor, but all he could hear were murmurs.

Rubbing at his eye, he leaned against the fireplace opposite his bed. Then three things happened at once. He blinked, his vision turned yellow and his thumb twitched against a small square panel in the mantel he'd never noticed before. At his touch, the large fireplace rumbled away from the wall.

A stale breeze blew past, filling his nostrils with the smell of mothballs and sawdust. The voice of his father echoed from the narrow wall-space.

Josué hesitated only a second before stepping in to follow that voice. Something told him this visit was important. The corridor led to a ladder then to a large flat wall with light emanating from its four corners.

Josué stopped. His father was in the middle of a sentence. ". . . you should have seen it tonight."

"You tested it, then?" the stranger interrupted, sounding familiar – yet unfamiliar.

"Yes, Enrique demonstrated it today. In fact, your grandson almost took the lab down on top of us."

_Grandfather!_ Josué's pulse pounded in his toes. How could grandfather be here? He was _supposed_ to be in jail.

"Josué? Excellent. How is he?"

Josué searched for a crack in the wall to catch a glimpse of the man he'd only met as a young child.

"One of Omri's men took a shot at him today. I wouldn't have expected them to be so bold. They must be ready to make a move." The smile had disappeared from his father's voice.

Josué felt his ears burn at the mention of Timeos. Why did he have to say anything about _that_?

"You are perceptive," his grandfather replied. There was a pause. "Leonard hasn't told you enough. From where I sit, your situation is dire. There is reason to believe your Family has been infiltrated."

The room grew silent. Josué pressed his ear against the wall, wondering if they were still in there.

Finally, his grandfather spoke, "You don't have much time, Porfirio. You are first on their list. I suggest a council of war – _tomorrow_. I'll return for it. Make sure Josué attends; he _is_ the future of the Trevino Family."

_Council of war!_ A stale breeze blew past, leaving Josué ice cold from the waist down. Perhaps Timeos _had_ been trying to kill him.

Retracing his steps to his room, Josué wondered if he would be ready for a war.

Chapter 3, Natives

Early the next day, Josué watched speeding marshland blur to a mixture of muddy browns below him. The pilot lowered the skimmer to fly over the sparse treetops.

A ceratopsid with three horns spooked from under the large limb of a Marsh Climber. Barreling along, it kept up with them.

"Dinosaurs won't mislead you, Josué," his father said. "Only the richest property supports them. If you don't see a raptor on your first fly-by, don't look twice."

Smiling, Josué listened to the dull thump of hooves above the noise of the skimmer's rotor and the rushing wind. A ripe smell from the dinosaur wafted up and around him. The strong grey back veered side to side as it tried to lose them. Leaning over the railing, Josué reached his hand out enough for his shadow to touch and retouch the leathery back. What it would be like to ride on a back that rough, behind those long horns? He dismissed the thought. Everyone knew how temperamental _these_ animals were. You never wanted to surprise one without a clear way of escape.

As they sped past it, the animal slowed to a walk, shook itself and took a large bite of marsh weed.

Ahead, the jungle loomed over the wetlands. A low mountain range stood beyond. Warm, humid air rose like a curtain as their skimmer climbed to clip the taller leaves of the jungle canopy.

"One thousand acres of marsh, jungle, and rock." Porfirio wore a satisfied smile. "The state no longer had a use for it, or needed the money more. However you want to look at it, it turned out well for us. This land will be worth more than gold someday. With the native village on it, it is priceless." He turned to catch the morning sun on his face.

Josué's father's pale complexion and eyes reflected a weariness that hadn't been there before. The hours in Parliament must be taking their toll, he realized then turned his own face into the sun. The thought of an office life sent a shudder down his spine. He lived for his viper adventures, spending his days searching for the legendary El Umbral!

The skimmer crested a ridge. Porfirio pointed to a cleared section of jungle on a hill. Mud structures under grass roofs nestled within a perimeter of circled spikes. "There's your village, Josué."

My village! What if it was his mother's village? His legs turned to jelly at the thought of seeing her. No. He pushed the thought aside. His father wouldn't have brought him along if they were going to see _her_ today. This village must be a small one, tucked away in a tract of land nobody wanted.

"Most of the ruling families try to stay away from natives. A serious mistake if you ask me." His father smiled. "Another reason our bid won at such a low price."

Josué searched for movement among the thatched roofs. "Does anyone live down there?"

"They want as much to do with us as the ruling families want to do with them. Gary, set us down past the river."

Gary sped over to a rocky section of ground less than a mile from the village then set it to hover and lowered the skimmer. Josué and his father jumped out.

Porfirio grabbed his pack and turned to the pilot, "We'll need a ride back before sunset. I'll give you a call on the radio."

Gary nodded and revved the rotors. He waved before speeding up and away, disappearing in the thick jungle canopy.

The noise of rushing water became all they could hear when the whine of the skimmer drowned away. White rapids poured over glittering rock, behind large leaves and thick branches. A wide stretch of deep-blue water cascaded between two wide stretches of trees.

His father eyed the whitecaps and Josué wondered how much planning had gone into the request to set them down on _this_ side of the river.

Sun streamed through the trees as they ambled along the lush overgrown banks. The unwelcome sound of a raptor groan cut through the underbrush, much closer than Josué would have preferred. "Did you bring a blaster?" he whispered.

"And kill a dinosaur on our own land?" His father responded in a voice much louder than Josué would have liked, though he did notice his father reach around to feel a lump in the pack. "Earth used to have dinosaurs . . . some sort of parallel evolution. They're extinct now and no one knows why. I'll certainly not play a hand in their extinction here."

His father eyed the brush. "The natural wonders of this world, Josué. You only need to spend a week on a planet like Baca before you realize what we have here. Sonora IV is the envy of the Galaxy, the breadbasket of the human race. Trevino wine is sold everywhere, and do you know why? Look at the pure water, the size of our grapes, and of course our unique processes."

Josué frowned and raised an eyebrow. "I didn't know we did anything different."

"The microorganisms we use in our fermentation set our wine apart in taste and quality. We fetch the highest price on the market." He leaned over and added in a low voice, "Black markets included, as your grandfather perhaps knows too well."

His father's smile faded to a sober expression. "I know I haven't spoken much about him."

Josué snorted at the understatement, though after last night, he had wondered if the topic of Grandpa would come up.

"It's probably time for you to know. Your grandfather is the leader of the Syndicate."

Both of Josué's eyebrows went up.

"They control the black market and much of their income is generated by Trevino wine." His father swallowed. "We share in the profit, of course."

"But why sell Trevino wine on the black market if we own it?"

Porfirio scratched his brow. "Your grandfather saw it as a way to raise our family's status. It backfired – a little. He's in jail, as you know. However, he _was_ right. We make more profit selling it illegally than legally. Control over both markets gives us more revenue than we could imagine."

Josué looked at his father and noticed how he avoided eye contact.

"It's not something I condone, and it's the reason you probably don't know your grandfather as well as you should."

Josué nodded, unable to remember the last time he'd seen his grandfather – other than his shadow last night.

"It was resourceful, though unethical. And, we 'own' the Syndicate. That's something you may need to know someday. I won't deny it has raised our family's status." His father plucked at a branch. "We could be named a Grandee if we wanted. Let's just say I prefer to reach _that_ position the right way."

"Grandee!" How could his father turn down the highest honor given to a family?

Porfirio picked a shriveled grape from a vine over the path. "The Omri Family produces wine. I don't know, maybe it's the grapes they use." He held it under his nose before throwing it into the water. "Or the fact they import their yeast. It has a bitter taste. Their sales reflect it."

Suddenly something very large crashed through the jungle a hundred meters to their left. Josué froze and glanced at his father.

His father crouched, swung his pack around and thrust his hand inside.

Stepping behind him, Josué peered into the overgrown brush. He looked for movement or a blur of color. He'd never seen a raptor this close.

The jungle grew quiet. Josué let go of the breath he'd been holding. His father stood erect. Then the thrashing started again, this time much closer.

A native man ran across the trail, stumbling toward the water.

Close behind him, the serpent-like form of a midsized raptor sprang after him. Red scales flashed. A wide mouth curved. Josué couldn't move, unable believe how close it was. The animal's sinuous body mesmerized him. Muscular hind-legs and curved talons launched it across the trail. A graceful whip-like tail swung behind it, keeping perfect balance.

Gliding over a fallen tree, it reached with razor-sharp teeth, mid-stride. It would have torn the man in two if the bolt from Porfirio's blaster hadn't knocked it onto its back.

The native man's eyes met theirs, shock clearly written on his face before he fell from the river bank and hit the water flat. He floated for a second then disappeared beneath the churning waves.

"The blast must have whiffed him," Josué said, but his father had already dropped the pack and dove in after the man.

The white water looked rough. Josué eyes darted for something useful. A large vine hung over the bank. Yanking it down, he pulled it in with him.

The coldness hit him before the splash passed his ears. His entire body stiffened at the shock. It was all he could do to stay afloat. Hanging onto the vine, he was afraid _he_ would need to be rescued as much as the native man.

To his left, his father held the man's head above the water and kicked over to him. Hanging onto the vine, all three of them made it back to the bank's safety.

Josué stood in the wet grass, trembling, unable feel his fingertips. Glancing at the fallen lizard, he almost wet his already soaked pants. "I just saw a leg twitch! Did you use stun?!"

"Of course!" His father voice was indignant. Josué watched as the man walked calmly over to the pack, picked up his blaster and let the lizard have it with another bolt. The leg stopped moving. But for how long? He stepped around the unconscious native, putting more distance between himself and the animal.

"Let's try over there." His father pointed to a ridge stretching most of the way across. A small gap let whitewater through fifty meters out. "We'll use the rocks to keep our balance." Porfirio grabbed his pack, hefted the man as if he weighed nothing at all and led Josué back into the river.

Under normal circumstances, getting back into the freezing water would have been impossible, but the thought of the semi-conscious raptor behind him spurred Josué on. He gritted his teeth, moved his toes one last time and stepped in behind his dad.

The current tugged deep and strong around his legs, pushing him against algae-covered boulders. He grabbed onto the back of his father's belt.

When they got to the gap, water poured down and around them. Josué gulped. He couldn't feel his ankles anymore and his knees were becoming harder to bend. His father stopped. The white water was as loud as a space cruiser landing right in front of them. The way it hit the rocks below made Josué think of eggs splatting against the pavement. He wondered what it would be like to give in to the incessant push. Maybe he could avoid being splattered and still make it to the far bank if he drifted over the rocks.

Thankfully, the native man chose that moment to wake up and motion to Porfirio to let him down. With his father's hands free, the three of them helped each other across the gap.

On the other side, the stranger knelt before Porfirio and reached for his hands.

Josué's father pushed the man upright. "Get up, man. We need to move." He pointed across the river. "I have a feeling that beast still has some fight in him."

The lizard's leg kicked again. This time its head rose with the motion. The native man nodded and led them into the jungle.

When the raptor was far enough behind them Porfirio stopped. "Look, I know how your people feel about us settlers, but I'm the new landowner here and I'd like to meet your elders."

Distrust mingled with understanding lined the man's brow. He could obviously speak the settler language, so that was not the problem.

He looked at Porfirio then glanced at Josué. The now familiar amber color returned to boy's vision as their eyes met. The native's mouth dropped open. He looked back at Porfirio. "I'll take you there."

Porfirio looked at Josué. Father and son shrugged as they followed the native into the jungle.

Chapter 4, The Elders

Over the shoulders of their guide, Josué eyed the spiked perimeter of the native village. The double rows of outward-pointed tree trunks looked firmly planted; a formidable defense against even the heaviest of predators. Beyond the barrier, multi-storied houses revealed a complex culture they had missed on their overhead flight. Wooden doors, glass windows, solar shades, and tiled patios hid beneath grassy rooftops.

A large amphitheater, cut into a hillside, opened over a slight rise. Steps led down to a stage. Stone benches filled each tier in neat semi-circles. Elegant pillars rose, evenly spaced to support an awning-like ceiling under the thatch. Their guide led them to the top row of benches. "Wait here."

They sat on cool stone seats that were surprisingly comfortable. The sweet air of the jungle blew through the theater. Josué relaxed, mostly because he was inside the perimeter fence, safe from any more raptors.

He looked down at the stage. "Is this much architecture common among natives?"

Porfirio nodded. "Sonora IV natives are very advanced. Most of our literature ignores this fact – an injustice stemming from the prejudices of the ruling families. There is much to be learned from what textbooks wrongly call a primitive people."

Four solemn-looking individuals approached. The first wore a golden robe, the second white, the third green, and the fourth blue. The golden-robed man smiled and held out his hand to Porfirio. The strong smell of lye crept into Josué's nose, conjuring up the feeling of cleanliness and even holiness.

"Welcome, Master Trevino and Josué." The golden-robed man nodded at them in turn, a smile stretched across his face. "We are honored by your visit."

To hear him address his father by title and surname surprised Josué only slightly more than to hear the man address him by his own first name.

The man in white spoke next. "As the Elders of this village, we are honored to show you hospitality, and on such a day!" His smile looked genuine and warm as he bowed with an arm extended to a path around the amphitheater.

The golden-robed man placed his hand on Josué's shoulder. "Please, come and join us."

The others nodded their heads in unison.

The two settlers followed the native elders around the amphitheater perimeter. The fourth elder, dressed in blue, fixed his eyes on Josué. A large smile framed his face. _Welcome._

Smiling back, Josué was unsure if he had imagined the word or simply missed the man's lips moving.

The golden-robed elder led them down a path to a long pavilion isolated from the rest of the village by thick jungle brush. A set of stairs led up to a platform with a large marble table on it. Columns at the corners of the platform held up another thatched roof.

His stomach grumbled at the delicious smell of grilled meat. On the table, a full-course meal was laid out with more food than the six of them could finish. Josué stepped behind the chair next to the golden-robed man, across from his father.

The one in blue looked at him again. The words, _They're feeding us raptor_ , sounded softly in his mind. This time Josué stared at the man, certain he hadn't heard with his ears.

"You'll have to excuse John." The man in the white interrupted Josué's shocked expression. "He likes to communicate mind-to-mind. It gives him the feeling of sincerity that he craves." The man in white aimed a look at the one he'd just called John.

John smoothed his blue robe. "Tacito desires balance, so he makes excuses for others." He nodded at the man in white and gestured to the chair. "Please, sit down, Josué."

Since his father was already engaged in conversation with the man in gold, Josué slid onto his seat. "Did you hear him, too?" He asked the man referred to as Tacito.

Tacito nodded, his eyes accented by the white in his robe.

Looking at John, Josué thought the words, _Thank you. I like this place_.

John's smile grew and he winked at Tacito.

Tacito continued, "We all look at things in our own way. Mateo over there in gold seeks to establish order. Ignacio in the green seeks to find out about things. He's always in a book."

The man in green looked up from the pages of a small book, took off his reading glasses and smiled sheepishly. "What? Oh, don't mind me, Josué. I'm reading settler literature." He lifted a book with the picture of a rhinoceros on the front. "It's a treatise on the species of Earth. Fascinating creatures on that planet."

"Don't let Tacito bother you with his theories on behavior." John passed Josué some water. "He's got us all classified and pinned up under a microscope. There's hardly much weight to those personality types."

Tacito smiled at Ignacio. "Ignacio is a Melancholic as your Greeks used to call them – Analyst, as the modern psychologists put it." Then he nodded at the man in gold. "Mateo, a Choleric-Controller. John is a Phlegmatic-Stabilizer and I'm a Sanguine-Persuader."

"Quite." Ignacio gave a weak grin and rolled his eyes.

"It's as plain as the four elements of the universe. You'll give me that, won't you? Fire, wind, earth, and water? They've studied this since the beginning of time, on our planet and others."

Josué chewed a bite of the sweet meat, amazed at the explosion of taste in his mouth. He'd studied personality theory in school. "So what am I?"

"You are balance – water. A stabilizer, like John." Tacito smiled at him.

"But what he doesn't tell you." Ignacio leaned forward. "Is that you can be anything you need to be at any time."

"Yes, the pitfall of the personality study," John added. "It's okay to classify core drives, as long as you free a man to act accordingly in a given situation."

Ignacio put his reading glasses back on and returned to his book. "We are all different from one another," he said without looking up.

"Yes, common drives do not preclude uniqueness among the kinds." Tacito continued as if he hadn't been interrupted. "It's simply a reflection of the patterns in your brain. Three lobes – three personalities, with the fourth personality composed of the intersection of the three. If my brain favors the left lobe, I'll be more analytical, like Ignacio here. If my brain favors the right, I'll be more controlling like Mateo. If my brain favors the lower lobe, I'll be more feeling. Stabilizers tend to the center, the intersection of the three."

"You will notice, Josué." John leaned over and spoke in a low voice. "Tacito has a large capacity for controlling behavior."

Josué sat straight and took a drink of his water. "Fascinating." The idea he was a stabilizer had never crossed his mind, but he could see how he liked to find balance in things. Maybe that was why the long pole was his favorite weapon.

"I knew you'd see my point." Tacito smiled and began to eat.

At that moment Mateo's words grabbed Josué's attention. "We see the necessity of your struggle with the Omri Family perhaps clearer than you do. It is a struggle you must win." Mateo paused, glancing at Josué. "I must advise you – the sacred sands warn of an immediate danger to your family. I fear for your safety. Josué must survive."

Josué wondered if the elders somehow knew about the Omri _activity_. Perhaps they had some information of an attack. As he reached to fill his glass with more water, he marveled at how at home he felt among these men. It was obvious Mateo cared about their survival. Maybe the man knew his mother.

"We've taken steps to protect ourselves." His father was using his best diplomatic voice, the kind that always put Josué to sleep. "I've installed an obfuscator. The Omri Family has limited resources . . . ."

Turning back to the others, Josué noticed John looking at him with a sober expression.

After the meal, the blue-robed elder escorted the two of them back to the perimeter of spikes. The noise of the skimmer buzzed just beyond the barrier.

"How did you know where we'd be, Gary?" Porfirio asked as they boarded the skimmer.

"I got your radio call," the pilot responded.

"Oh, yes."

Josué watched his father's confused smile and wondered how he could look even more tired than on their trip out here. The conversation with Mateo must have been a serious one and Gary's comment had disturbed them both. They had never made a radio call.

Chapter 5, War Council

Josué entered Master Héctor's sparring session with his thoughts far from the dojo. His mind traced the angles of the amphitheater and remembered the natural, sincere mental communication with Elder John. He smiled when he thought of Tacito's personality theories and wondered what Mateo had been discussing so intently with his father.

The blunt end of a pugel stick brought his attention back to the training room with harsh abruptness. Thoughts scattered. Tears welled into his eyes then he saw yellow. His arms and legs reacted. Twirling, he landed a blow on his teacher's side, sending Héctor across the room.

"Now your mind is here," the Weapons Master replied with a gasp. "This is the fighter I saw yesterday." Héctor let his stick rest on the mat and wiped a towel across his shaved head before taking a deep breath.

Josué rested an elbow on the upright end of his pugel stick. "We visited the native village today."

Héctor nodded.

"Héctor, what would happen if we were ever attacked?"

"I think you'll find that out soon enough." Héctor rested his hands on his knees.

"I mean, what would happen to our family if something were to happen – say, to father?" Josué shifted his weight.

"You would become the Master of the Family. We would follow your direction." Héctor stood straight, the frown on his face bending into a grimace. "You are the Trevino heir. The future of this Family rests on you."

Josué frowned. The answer gave him little comfort. He wondered where his unsettled feeling came from. Had Timeos' attempt at his life gotten to him, or was it Mateo's mention of imminent danger? He'd been trained for danger. It shouldn't unsettle him. Still, it was different to face an actual attack. He grimaced when he thought of how things had gone in the mine.

Héctor took another swing. Josué blocked it, though several more hits found his body before Héctor sent him away for not concentrating.

***

After dinner, his father led him into the manor office, closed the door and locked it. Then he turned, folded his arms and stood.

Wondering if the war council would be in this room, Josué searched his surroundings out of the corner of his eye. Where was Grandfather? Should he shake hands when he met him or give him a hug? Handshakes seemed safer.

"Son, what I'm about to show you, only a handful of people know about. These are Trevino Family secrets, and they must die with you."

Josué held his father's gaze until his eyes felt dry and bumps crept down his arms. Héctor's words echoed in his mind, _. . .you are the Trevino heir_.

"I mean it. No one must know the things you are about to see. Can you keep a secret?"

His father's face held nothing but seriousness. Josué hurriedly nodded. "Yes, Father, I can."

"Good." Porfirio moved a statue of a horse on his desk. A panel in the back wall opened. Stepping into the passage, his father waved for Josué to follow. "This leads to the war room." He stepped to the left, away from a ladder Josué knew was at the other end.

At a yellow gate, his father paused. "This lift will take us down to a bunker your grandfather and I installed before you were born." He opened it and helped Josué onto a cold metal bench.

Lowering a safety bar over their legs, he reached up and flipped a switch. Cut rock whirled past Josué's neck with a rush of wind, sending chills down his spine. The feeling of weightlessness grabbed at his knotted stomach.

The small light at the top of the metal elevator frame illuminated large boulders as they passed. The clean cut stone, smooth metal bars and noiselessness of the lift filled his mind with images of sleek jet fighters. The militaristic nature of their family life struck him anew. He was used to guards in fresh pressed uniforms, weapons strapped to their backs, surrounding the compound. This ride into a secret bunker raised things. He could almost imagine their family having galactic reach and being associated with an organization like the Syndicate. Anticipation filled him. What was he about to see? How much could he learn? Would it be enough before an attack?

"We're going down 500 feet." His father's voice echoed dully in the solid-walled shaft. "There is a control room down here, stocked with supplies to last six months."

Josué gulped. "Six months! Why so long?"

"In case we're ever nuked."

The word 'nuked' landed on Josué's ears like the leaden weight of the rock they were descending into. It was something he knew could happen, but never wanted to think about.

At the bottom, the safety bar lifted and Porfirio led him to a room of video walls. "Here you can see watchtowers, man a turret, or activate mines around the perimeter. And." Pointing to a large red button with a plastic shield over it, he said, "This button will level the manor above us if we are ever overrun. Rations and quarters are over there." His father motioned to a door at the far end of the room.

Trying to memorize every panel and button as his father pointed it out, he wondered what _he_ would do if he ever had to man this control center.

"Enrique helped design the place. It's the premier control room of the Sonora IV Families." His father's smile told him how proud he was of that fact.

As they turned a corner his father grabbed a large lever-handle to what looked like a room-sized safe, complete with spin-dial. "Welcome to your first war council, Josué." Porfirio pulled the metal door open and held it for him.

Bare silver walls, a mahogany table and leather chairs made the room look surprisingly welcoming and official, though the stale, warmish air was confining. The walls seemed solid and thick. As he stepped into the room, he wondered at how his footsteps made no sound.

Héctor and Leonard sat with several other men Josué didn't recognize around an oval table.

As soon as his father crossed the threshold, the men in the room stood – all except for the tall white-haired gentleman at the far end.

"Porfirio! So good to see you." A man with a broad smile and dark hair kissed Josué's father on the cheek.

"Eberardo, meet my son, Josué." Porfirio indicated the boy with an open palm.

Eberardo's thick hand shook Josué's.

"Eberardo is our eyes and ears in the ruling council." His father stepped sideways to the next person, a thin man with a pointed mustache. "I'm sure you've seen Alvaron around the compound. He's the chief of the guard." His father patted the man on the arm.

"You know Héctor and Leonard." His father indicated the men across the table.

Then his father led Josué to the end of the table to face the only person still seated. The man rose slowly as though unfolding himself. When he stood, he was slightly taller than Porfirio. A skeptical look filled his eye. He glanced sideways then down at Josué. A sudden wink and shaky hand on Josué's shoulder betrayed the austerity of the man.

"This is him?" the man asked with a split-second bounce, as though his knees had failed in that moment.

Josué looked into coal black eyes and searched for a vague memory.

His father's hand fell on his other shoulder. "Josué, this is your grandfather, Hernan Trevino."

Josué smiled. _Grandfather_. He reached to shake the man's hand and felt lanky arms enfold him in a hug. A lump burned in his throat.

When his grandfather released him, his father was already back at the table's head. As Porfirio sat, the rest of the men sat with him. Josué plopped down in the empty chair next to his grandfather.

"Leonard, fill us in. What have you discovered?" Porfirio fixed his attention on the man with the easy smile.

"The Omri Family has a plant," Leonard stated matter-of-factly. "We've picked up electronic communications coming from their Manor to the Trevino lab."

"Right," Josué's grandfather interrupted, clearing his throat. "We've taken the precaution of securing the voice weapon prototype from the lab." He patted a silver case on the table in front of him. "Our people will continue its development."

"We can expect an attack," Leonard continued with a steel expression. "As early as tonight." He leaned forward in his chair and searched the room.

Josué searched the room too. Sober expressions filled every face. Héctor caught his wide-eyed stare and nodded. Their previous conversation came to mind.

His father stared at Eberardo. The man shifted under his gaze as if sitting on something hot. "We can't depend on any backing from the other Families. The hologram Atlantos sent around caused a panic. It seems none of the other Families have the stomach for a fight." Eberardo held a stack of papers in the air. "They've signed onto Ormand's payroll – everyone." He threw the papers at the center of the table, tears glimmering in his eyes.

Josué looked at the white stack and wondered what could have brought such shameful actions from the other Families.

A frown creased his father's brow, splitting a deep furrow between his eyes. Suddenly his fist slammed on the table.

Josué jumped in his seat.

"Curse that man Atlantos. He has no spine, and still they fear him." The jaw muscles on his father's face looked like they'd been cut from the stone of the elevator shaft. "What size of an attack should we expect?"

Alvaron spoke up. "Worst case, Sire, we'd be outnumbered two to one. But. We hold the higher ground. Our defenses have been well supplied."

Porfirio nodded his head. His shoulders relaxed a little.

"Sire, with all due respect, I suggest you and Josué stay down here for the night. It's less risky if we know you are both safe." Alvaron gripped the arm of his chair and pushed back against his seat.

The thought of being holed up in a bunker made Josué cringe. Did they have that much to fear with the perimeter wall?

"I will return to the city," his grandfather spoke. "I have a safe place in the jail."

Porfirio turned to Leonard. "Your life is in danger if you return to Omri Manor. You can stay here, too."

Leonard nodded.

Porfirio stood. The rest of the room stood. He met their gazes in turn. "Let's get to work."

As they filed out of the room his father stepped over to Héctor. "Look at the monitors again. If it's clear, take Josué up. Then get what you need before returning."

Héctor nodded and stepped into the control room.

Josué followed, looking back at his father's bowed, balding head. The sturdy frame under the loose-hanging sports coat seemed solid and immovable. This man would stand against the Omri Family, even if others did not. The thought filled him with admiration.

Chapter 6, Fall of Trevino Manor

Down in the bunker Héctor watched the monitors while Josué mentally cataloged his bedroom. How long would they be underground? Surely _not_ six months. If they stopped by the weapons room, he could get something really useful, like a good long-staff. He didn't want to get caught without one after his experience with Timeos.

For a second, the hairs on the back of his neck stood on end. Through a yellow haze, he saw men crouching in the jungle, shadows on the hologram wall. He shuddered and the image and his vision returned to normal.

Josué shook his arms and flexed his wrists. His imagination was getting the better of him. Leonard's report had been ominous. Nerves coursed through him. It was like he was about to take a test, only worse. "To think of an attack as early as tonight . . . ." he said to Hector, who simply nodded.

Back at the lift, the bar lowered over their legs and the rocks rushed past in the opposite direction. The grey square of light at the top grew larger. Josué closed his eyes. _Everything_ was moving so fast.

At the top Héctor led him down a new passage and stopped at a wide panel in the wall. This one opened into the training room.

In the mirrors against the back wall, Josué noticed how pale his own reflection looked. His arms and legs felt loose – too loose. He was hungry again after just having eaten.

Héctor crossed the room, reached up to a shelf and pulled down a box. A stray curl of dark brown hair tumbled out of the side. Héctor smiled. "You'll have to trust your father on this. He had it specially made."

Josué looked in the box. A costume of a native servant girl lay inside. "He wants me to pretend to be a _girl_?" Josué looked in disbelief at his Weapons Master.

"Trust," was all Héctor said. He held the door to the shower room.

Josué shuffled his feet as he took the box.

When he returned, he stared at himself in the mirror. The image of a native house servant stared back at him. "It will be hard to fight in a costume like this."

Héctor adjusted the tunic around his shoulders. "Your name will be Aissa from now on. You are a kitchen maid from the native village – that means _no fighting_." Héctor's voice carried the tone of a strict command. "Understand?"

Josué nodded slightly, hoping Héctor wasn't serious.

"I mean it! You _must_ promise me not to fight, no matter what the circumstance."

Josué looked in his Master's eyes. The loyalty there humbled him. He knew these instructions came ultimately from his father and were for his good. "I promise." Josué fought back a shudder at the words.

"If you get captured, you get captured. You must do everything you can to stay alive tonight – everything that is but fighting. Your survival is paramount. The future of the Trevino Family rests in you."

A low rumble shook the ground. Josué looked at Héctor. The Weapons Master's eyes widened. Black smoke curled up from the edges of the hidden panel.

Josué's heart stood still. "The bunker!"

Héctor pulled a lever in the weapons rack. The panel swung open. Billows of smoke rolled into the room. Josué watched Héctor's back disappear into blackness before putting his sleeve up to his nose and plunging in after his master.

Near the lift, Josué's hopes rose as the smoke cleared. They fell immediately when he saw the shaft was a shambles. A twisted bar of painted yellow metal poked out of the rubble, all that was left of the lift.

"It's caved in. Go back." Héctor waved him to the training room.

Josué obeyed mechanically, wondering how they would dig out the shaft, and how long it might take. He bumped along the narrow passage to the training room. Just as he stepped onto the dojo mat he heard a high-pitched whistle then felt a push from behind. Héctor's body slammed into his. A loud roar blew the wig over his eyes. The two of them landed in a heap on the training mat. Josué looked back as fire licked out of the passageway onto the ceiling.

"Up! Get out. They're shelling us!" Héctor grabbed the back of Josué's tunic and pulled him toward the glass doors then out onto the covered walkway.

Outside, flames shot into the night sky from the center of the manor. By the light of those flames a picture of chaos played before him. A dead body hung from a watchtower. Another lay along the wall. Laser flashes blazed in bright orange and green.

Héctor led Josué along the path toward the lab. As they crossed the bridge, the building exploded in a ball of fire. A deafening crash shook the ground. Josué threw himself down next to Héctor, covering his head with his arms. Rock and glass rained around his shoulders.

Before he could get back up, a dark uniformed arm grabbed his shoulder. Josué got to his feet and raised his hands over his head. The guard grabbed his wrists, forcing his arms down and around his back.

Héctor rose too, arms and legs a blur of motion. Two black-clothed bodies with the Omri Family insignia on their chest flew into the pond, their necks at odd angles. A third collapsed at Héctor's feet.

One moment Josué smiled at the awesome display of his teacher's ability, the next his expression turned to horror as the chest of the brave warrior, from whom he'd learned so much, exploded in bright light. Héctor's body flew back, away from Josué, landing in a crumpled heap. Vacant eyes stared up into the dull red sky.

_NO!_ Josué wanted to shout. He flexed against the restraints on his wrists, but they were secure. He wanted to send his captor flying and find the one who had slain his Weapons Master. Then he remembered his promise and forced himself to calm down. He had sworn not to fight. _I must stay alive_ , he told himself _._ Tears found their way down the sides of his face. His body trembled.

Josué bowed his head and bit his lip. Shrinking beneath his curly hair and tunic, he willed those around him to see only his disguise. He was Aissa, now. His family must survive, he told himself. Héctor had just died for that.

The guard pushed him forward. "Move, Trevino scum!" he shouted in his ear. A kick sent him stumbling to the front walkway. A blow on the back of the head knocked him down into a kneeling position. A knee on his back pressed his face into the ground. Out of the corner of his eyes he saw a line of bound women hunched over, spread out on both sides of the manor walkway. Was he doing the right thing?

The ground in front of him flickered red and orange. Snaps and pops like oil on a frying pan burned the air above him.

A hot ash landed on his neck, stinging like an angry bee. Josué closed his eyes and welcomed the pain, a small distraction from the horrors taking place around him.

His father was trapped – if he was still alive. Héctor was dead. The shrieks of men and women filled his ears. His lungs were heavy with the smell of burning oil.

_The future of the Trevino Family rests in you_ , he heard in his mind.

_What does that mean?_ he asked back. _All that is good about the Trevino Family has been cast aside here._ _Why should I care?_ He wished he was with his father.

"Get down and stay down," a guard yelled. The heel of a boot caught the back of his neck, pushing his face back onto the cement. The heat from the manor flames warmed his back. Tears choked his throat. He waited.

The electronic crackle of a sound system told him something new was happening. Josué's turned his head to the front of the manor. A white light from a projector-bot illuminated what was left of the manor walls. The image of the control room fuzzed in and out, framed by orange flames. As it stabilized, Josué drew a breath in. His father's battered figure sat in front of the control panel.

Blood and dirt spattered the man's face. One of his arms hung useless at his side. Half-laying, half-sitting, he looked out with a bewildered expression on his face.

A squat, heavy-set man with a mop of black curls across his forehead strutted up the walkway to stand in front of the flaming manor. A tiger-striped jacket over a black T and loose, black leather pants gave him the look of an off-world tourist. Two guards flanked him.

"Porfirio! Is that you?" The man shouted to the image on the manor wall. "You should be more careful who you allow into your bunker. Or didn't Leonard tell you about the bomb we _surgically_ implanted in his body?" The man laughed.

"Ormand, you won't get away with this!" Porfirio wheezed in the image on the manor wall before a cough shook his whole body.

"Who will stop me? The Ruling Families? What can they do? There are no witnesses. Enrique's obfuscator kept you unaware of my troops and now it will keep any prying eyes from seeing what I don't want them to. Besides, haven't you heard? They work for me now. You were the only one to refuse my payroll!" Ormand burst into a wicked laugh.

Josué felt like vomiting. He hoped his father would level the manor and put an end to this man.

"But don't worry – we'll have a hologram to show them. We'll share it with anyone who may consider following your example. Your death will not be in vain. You and your pathetic Family will serve a worthy purpose. They'll all be glad they joined me after they see what happens to you." Ormand's shoulders shook in mirth.

Four Omri guards pulled two charred bodies up the manor pathway. They stopped next to Ormand. The first body Josué recognized right away, his old friend and trainer Héctor. The second body made Josué's blood run cold – it was a perfect replica of himself.

Josué could see recognition in his father's eyes. _It's not me!_ He wanted to scream. Josué tried to jump to his feet, but a sharp knee in his back forced him down and knocked the wind from his chest. He couldn't speak. He couldn't move.

"And now goodbye, Porfirio." Ormand gave a sardonic frown.

Josué watched his father reach with his good arm for the red button. He hesitated for a brief second before flipping the protective cover open and mashing it down.

Josué cringed, expecting the entire compound to erupt in some kind of horrible explosion. Instead, there was a flash on the screen and a surprised look in his father's eye. The image cut off. Another rumble shook the ground beneath them.

Ormand chuckled as he turned to walk down the manor path and out of the compound. Josué heard his boots pass. "Good old Enrique. He re-wired that switch too."

Josué closed his eyes and pressed his face to the cold, hard cement. His father was surely dead.

Chapter 7, Rice

Josué ducked as the tree-trunk sized tail swung over his shaven head. The other slaves, two natives and a settler, bent theirs in turn, keeping their shoulders to plow.

The dino rider's whip cracked. The giant sauropod grunted and pulled. Josué stepped, knees to elbows, keeping up with the animal through thigh-high water. The Sonoran sun reflected into his eye from the murky rice paddy, blurred by the bead of sweat burning in the corner of it.

The tail was back. This one usually kept it higher. Josué reached up to touch the leathery skin as it swung over his head. Sometimes all a dinosaurs needed was a gentle touch to remind it there were humans behind.

Josué looked over the marshland and remembered flying his viper over this very spot. He had never imagined the silt-like sand that pushed between his toes or the overturned grass that scratched against his legs, leaving welts that could last for days.

Leaning his shoulder into the worn brown wood, he eyed the girl next to him. She was slumped over, arms hanging from her shackles, forehead resting where her shoulder should be.

A tearful cry sounded in his mind.

"Look sharp, Felisa," Josué said under his breath. "If the dino-rider catches you, it's the whip."

"I can't make it, Aissa." Her tired yellow eyes turned to look at him through half opened slits. "I can't feel my toes."

He peered into the marsh waters. "Do you have a sucker?"

Her hand dipped to search along her leg. A stifled hiss escaped her mouth. She shifted her stance. "Yes!"

"Rip it off. Here." He leaned into the plow to give her the slack she needed.

She struggled to keep her balance as she yanked the long slug-like creature out of the water.

"Pinch its head off so it won't come back."

_Ugh._ He definitely heard that word mentally. Josué cocked his head to the side. He'd never heard any of the other natives in his mind. He wondered what was different about her.

"How come you never get these?" she asked as she threw the pieces into the water behind them with a plop.

"Don't know. Luck I guess."

He had seen more than one slave fall from the blood loss of a sucker. They were usually dragged to their death. Dino-rider slave masters prohibited anyone from helping them. "One less mouth to feed," was how they put it.

The dino-rider caught his eye. "No talking!" The man cracked his whip and left a burning sensation five inches long across Josué's back.

The slave master aimed another at Felisa's face, but Josué lifted his arm to stop it. The whip curled around his shackle and held fast. Stumbling to keep his balance, he arched his back, feeling the whip tighten then go slack. Startled, Josué watched the slave master fall into the water with a splash.

His heart raced. Yanking against the plow, he backed away as far as he could, in vain. He had nowhere to go. Giving in to the inevitable, he looked forward and waited for the punishment in whatever form it would take.

The others stared at him, their shocked eyes riveted.

The pointed mustache of the slave master leered down at him. The man's red cheeks were framed by dark matted hair. He spit in Josué's face, raised the whip like a club and slammed it down on his head. "How dare you touch the whip of a Master!"

Josué watched stars dance before his eyes as the man's arm moved back for a second blow. Then his vision turned yellow. He lifted the plow, the curved blade coming with it. Hard metal struck soft flesh. Red swirled where the guard's knee should have been.

Curses and threats rained over Josué's head. A gloved hand grabbed him by the neck; the crushing grip folding his throat and cutting off the air. His eyes bulged. Sun glinted from the man's iron breastplate. He wondered if this were the end and felt a strange peace about it. Perhaps he _should_ have died with his father the night of the attack.

A sudden wind passed before his face and the dino-rider's hand was ripped from under his chin. Air rushed back into his chest. His eyes focused.

A deafening roar erupted from the sauropod. Josué couldn't ever remember hearing a sauropod roar. There was blood in that cry.

The dinosaur's tail lifted the Slave Master in the air before casting him into the marsh. Then the great beast rose on hind legs and landed square on the slave master's chest. A cloud blossomed in the water where the man had fallen.

Felisa put her hand to her mouth. Josué watched the others. Their gazes were fixed on the angry dinosaur's sinewy neck.

It settled down as if nothing had happened. And they waited. Unsure what to do. Not able to do anything.

***

A steward on a hover lorry flew in a lazy arc over to where they stood, sweating in the hot sun. "Where is your slave master?" he demanded.

No one spoke.

The man's eyebrows tilted at a dangerous angle.

Josué imagined only the dino-rider's bones were left by now. The marsh would strip a dead body of its flesh in less than an hour. Once a sucker smelled blood it was hard to keep it away. With the suckers came other undesirables in the marsh waters.

"I'm not going to wait forever for you pieces of filth. You're wasting my time. Someone will talk or I'm going to shoot." The man pulled a blaster from his belt. "I'll start with the youngest." He glared at Josué and Felisa, trying to decide which was the youngest.

Josué caught sight of the oldest woman on their team. Her eyes were fixed on him as if in contemplation. Would she tell the guard what had happened? All at once he decided _he_ should be the one to tell. His mouth was half open when the elder woman spoke loudly, "The slave master left. Into the jungle!" She pointed to their left. "He made us swear to say nothing or he would kill us."

Josué looked at her in amazement. She had told an outright lie.

Felisa caught his glance. Her eyebrows furrowed and her gaze shot to the ground. Josué looked down too and closed his mouth. Anything he said now would only make things worse.

The steward keyed his radio. "We've got a deserter. Alert the search teams." The guard put his radio away and turned back to the four of them. "You sucker scum wasted my time. If we weren't running out of slaves, I'd kill all four of you and feed you to this lizard here. Instead, I'll personally watch while they beat you. Then, I'll place you in the stocks myself. Consider yourselves lucky." The guard turned his lorry around and flew away.

When he was gone, Josué searched the faces of the others. Silent dread filled their eyes.

He nodded to the oldest. "I'm sorry . . . _I_ got you into this . . . I didn't mean . . ."

The older woman's gaze was focused on the dinosaur. She smiled. "I can't go against the will of an ancient one, Josué. You will survive this day, even if we do not."

His heart skipped a beat. How had she known his name!

Chapter 8, Felisa

Josué awoke to moist dirt pressing against his cheek. Cold metal gripped his ankles somewhere above his head. Stars gleamed down through the dark outlines of the buildings around him.

He didn't remember falling asleep on the quad. Come to think of it he didn't remember falling asleep at all.

He struggled to sit, but his muscles protested. His back erupted in a fire of pain. Under his shirt, skin cracked. It was easier to give up. He lay still and closed his eyes, unable to think from exhaustion.

In the dim light of pre-dawn he saw Felisa next to him, lying with her feet up. Her tunic was a pattern of dark streaks and oblong-shaped shadows, reminding him of raptor stripes.

A heavy chain hung from his arm leading to shackles on hers. The stocks! They were in the stocks.

A dim memory of being forced over a waist-high post, ankles tied to wrists came back to him. Then the whip had started and his memory became fuzzy as though it had all happened in another lifetime.

He remembered wondering when it would stop before a soft, black nothing. Someone must have carried him here.

His foot kicked involuntarily, sending a shudder down his side. _This_ was going to be _a day_.

With considerable effort he pulled himself up to sit on the bench, gritting his teeth as he did it. Felisa stirred and woke next to him. He almost mumbled an explanation before he heard the snort of a guard sitting in the dark off to their right.

Lifting the chain between them, he helped her up.

_Ugh!_ he heard her say mentally.

Memories of Elder John came back to him. He wondered if Felisa had the same ability as the blue-robed elder. Hadn't he heard her in the marsh?

_Ugh._ He found himself saying in his own mind.

Felisa looked up. Josué watched her eyes narrow. She hunched forward, searching the quad without looking like she was searching it.

He looked away to hide his smile. It was obvious she had heard him 'speak,' and it was also obvious she didn't know he had been the one who'd spoken.

Finally, she gave up and stretched her back gingerly. He marveled at how elegant she looked even after she'd been beaten to a bloody pulp. Her back was straight, hips perfectly balanced on the narrow bench.

Next to Felisa, the elder lady lay slumped forward. Josué stared at her, wondering how she could breathe. Her skin looked as gray as the morning sky.

_Oh!_ he said, not meaning to make it a mental word.

At his thought, Felisa turned to look at the woman. Then she glanced back at Josué, frowned and sat forward. She avoided his gaze after that.

The door to the sleeping quarters opened. A mess hall worker slipped across the quad as the first light of day crept over the horizon. Josué caught a glimpse of white sheets tucked around wooden cots as the door squealed shut. Even the hard beds of the dorm looked enticing to his stiff limbs.

More slaves came out, crossing to the mess hall. Their stares and questioning looks made him feel exposed. He hunched forward.

Through the mud-smeared metal frame windows of the mess hall, Josué watched the others in their tan tunics, lifting wooden spoons of mush to their mouths. What he wouldn't give for one bite.

One by one, plow teams rose from their tables and headed to waiting hover lorries. Josué watched them and listened to the harsh talk of the guards. At least he wouldn't be in the marsh under their whip today, though it was small comfort when he found he'd already lost the feeling in his legs.

When the last lorry left for the fields, stillness descended on the quad. Josué let out a sigh of relief after the guard finally got up and left. "Psst, Felisa," he whispered.

She turned to him. Her dull amber eyes were filled with weariness. Her lips were cracked and blood-smeared.

"How is she?" he nodded at the elder woman.

Felisa looked and tried to reach over to touch the woman, her chain preventing it. "She's breathing."

"She doesn't look good."

"You two keep quiet," the settler girl hissed at them. "I'm not getting in any more trouble because of you."

Josué hardened his expression and focused across the quad. He couldn't blame her for her anger. He just wondered how much her comment matched the attitude of the guards. How could she sit and watch a fellow human die?

_No wonder she is a slave,_ he thought out loud.

Felisa froze. He knew she had heard him this time, no mistake. Why did she avoid looking at him? Why didn't she talk back?

He shrugged and looked away. Maybe she was just shy. He decided he would keep quiet mentally _and_ physically.

The condition of the elder woman worried Josué as the day progressed. Past midday, her skin was covered in goose bumps. When she started to shake uncontrollably, Josué searched for a guard. He wished the one from the morning would return.

Beads of sweat covered the neck and face of the woman. Her teeth chattered before the guard finally returned.

Josué leaned forward, fear tingling in his limbs. He knew he wasn't supposed to talk, but he couldn't let the lady die. He cleared his throat. "Can you take her to the infirmary?"

A whip handle across his mouth struck him to silence. "If you speak again, you'll get another day," the guard shouted at him then turned and strutted away.

Long after the other slaves had returned, eaten and gone to bed, the guard finally walked over to release them. By then, the night sun had been in the sky for over an hour.

Josué watched his feet fall to the ground as the guard opened his shackles. There was no feeling past the small in his back. His legs felt like plastic replacements connected to his hips.

As he rubbed, the cold clamminess of his own flesh turned his stomach. He hoped no permanent damage had been done. Surely other people had survived the stocks and lived to walk again, he told himself.

The moment of intense pain when he could finally bend his knee was interrupted by the elder slave's complete collapse.

When he could, Josué crawled over to her, but the guard stood in his way. "Don't touch her. She can go to the infirmary, herself," the man growled. Then added with a smirk, ". . . if she gets up." He lifted his whip to ward Josué off.

Josué set his teeth and stared up at the guard. His vision turned so yellow he could only see the color itself. When it returned to normal, the guard had turned and walked away.

Josué bent over the woman. Felisa appeared at his elbow. Together they rubbed her legs and set her to a sitting position. Her back was such a slippery mess, he was afraid he was doing more harm than good. He couldn't see anything in the dim red of the night sun.

"Is she conscious?" Felisa asked.

She coughed into her hand. Dark flecks of blood colored her thumb and wrist. One last wrenching cough shook her before she leaned to the side and collapsed in his arms, motionless and all weight.

"I'm sorry. I'm _so_ sorry," Josué said, tears forming in his eyes. Hadn't it been _his_ fault?

"We've got to go," Felisa said, pulling at his arm.

Josué couldn't say anything. He knew she was right, but how many people had died around him in the past two months? He was tired of not letting it bother him, and this woman had helped him.

"We can't help her. The guards are coming. We have to go." Josué could hear their footsteps. Reluctantly he set the woman against the wall and closed her eyes. He wondered how callous he would become toward death by the time this was all over.

"Come with me." Felisa spoke coldly and took his hand in hers.

He hobbled after her, just as the guards entered the quad. She led him to the rubber hose hanging over a wooden barrier outside of the sleeping quarters – the only shower they had.

"So, you are native, then?" she asked when they were alone.

Josué felt his ears burn. He glanced down at his arms. They had a native hue, even in the night sun. The hours in the marsh had turned him a proper golden-brown. Why did people assume he was a settler, even if he had blue eyes?

"My mother was native." He found himself saying it like a confession.

"But you have the link. How?" she asked. He could see her eyes in the red glow, peering at him with an uncomfortable intensity.

He crossed his arms. The way she had asked 'how' made him feel like he had been somewhere he shouldn't have been or taken something that didn't belong to him. "What link?" he asked.

"The mental link between elders." Her voice was severe.

Josué shifted his feet. His question had obviously cost points in her opinion of him. He kicked at the ground. "You mean I spoke to you with my mind?" He had hoped the few mental words would have brought her closer to him. Obviously, he had been wrong.

She was silent for a moment as if considering then said, "Only elders and those who have been chosen to be elders have the link. _You_ must not use it." She handed him the hose, turned away and walked off.

Josué stared at her back as she entered the sleeping quarters. He closed his mouth and swallowed. Who did she think she was to tell him what he could and couldn't do? He grabbed the water hose and turned it on with an angry twist. The cool liquid flowed down his back, reviving him. He wondered if he was allowed to enjoy the feeling of water cleansing his cuts, or did he need her permission for that, too?

Chapter 9, Tested

The next morning Josué rolled out of bed. The woman below him, who usually kicked him at night for snoring, handed him his sandals and looked him in the eye with a smile. Josué fell back in surprise, banging against in her bed and wincing at the pain in his back.

The bunk teetered. He managed a whispered, "Thank you," and felt his ears and back burn like hot coals.

At breakfast, Josué went to find a seat. He didn't have to pass the first table. The slaves there made eye contact with him, smiled and slid over to give him room. Josué sat down slowly, a wry smile pasted to his face.

As they ate in silence, he wondered at the stray looks aimed his way. Perhaps time in the stocks had raised his status.

His brow furrowed when he noticed Felisa walk by with her tray. She had to go all the way to the last table before she found a place to sit.

Josué gulped down his food so he could walk over to her. He hoped she would talk to him out loud, since their mental link was to be off-limits. "Have you noticed anything different this morning?" he asked, sitting across from her.

She looked at him and frowned. "What do you mean?"

"I don't know – extra attention? People treating you differently?"

She shook her head.

After an awkward silence, she got up to put her tray away. Josué followed her to the tray dispenser then out onto the quad. When they reached the door, someone held it open for him. Josué leaned over to whisper to Felisa, "Like that for instance."

She tilted her head to the side. "It must be the sauropod," she said crisply.

Josué gingerly scratched the top of his head. "The sauropod? What does the sauropod have to do with anything?"

"Aside from the prophecy," Felisa continued, her voice laden with exaggerated patience. "Ancient ones are close to us as a people. They are connected to the link, like the Elders. If an ancient one protects you, it would be reason for people to treat you differently – especially natives."

Josué wondered why _she_ hadn't treated him differently, other than her abrupt coldness he wished would go away.

The unwanted attention from the other slaves continued as they walked through the quad. The points and whispers, sly though they were, unsettled him. By the time he arrived at the lorry, the looks and smiles had become _too_ noticeable. He scratched at his wrists. Nothing good could come of this.

His worst fears became reality when the Slave Master's eyes met his. Josué's heart beat like a drum. Eye contact was forbidden between slaves and masters. He quickly found a puddle in the corner of the lorry to focus on and keep his head fixed.

It felt like forever before they lifted to depart to their rice paddy. Josué stayed focused on the ripples in the puddle to keep from looking at the guard. The man's unwavering gaze was almost tangible.

After a while, even Felisa began to fidget. The flight to the rice paddy was much longer than Josué could have thought possible.

When they finally arrived at the plow, the guard shackled the others, but left _him_ unchained. A sinking feeling filled his breast and settled in his gut when the guard grabbed his arm.

The Slave Master led him from the plow to the side of the dinosaur. Josué's knees trembled as the guard whirled him around to face the others.

"Look over here, you dino-waste," the Slave Master shouted at the team. "You girls may have heard a rumor going around about this slave here." The guard hit Josué on the back of the head.

A stinging pain burned there. He mouth turned as dry as a bone.

"Some say she has protection over her. I just wanted to assure your weak little minds that _no_ Omri slave has protection. Omri slaves are the lowest-of-the-low."

The Slave Master grabbed the back of Josué's head and pulled it back. He was forced to look into the man's eyes. Cold dispassionate murder lurked in there. Any hope of a happy ending vanished in that gaze.

"You don't believe these rumors, do you, slave?" the guard asked Josué.

The stench of cheap, Omri wine filled Josué's nose. He shook his head vigorously.

"They say even a guard armed with a blaster couldn't hurt this slave. Do you believe that?" The guard turned back to the plow. Josué followed the man's gaze out of the corner of his eye. Thankfully, the others shook their heads, though he knew it wouldn't be enough to save him.

The guard pulled out a blaster then rested the muzzle on Josué's temple. "Let's just do a little test, so there isn't any doubt."

Josué gulped and tried to control his breathing, like he'd been taught. The guard stuck his face back into Josué's, "You won't mind, will you slave? You don't want a bad rumor going around about you, do you?" Josué heard the man as though he spoke from another room.

The cold reality of the metallic blaster on his temple had cleared his vision. With it, his eyesight had turned bright amber and calm had spread through his limbs.

The guard pushed Josué's head back with an extended arm. Josué watched the man's finger turn white on the blaster trigger. The words of his old weapons master came back to him, "Drive circumstances. Never let them drive you."

Josué let his knees buckle, closed his eyes and pretended to faint. Then he twisted and spun, lifting his feet and catching the guard's wrist with a swift kick. The gun flew from the man's hand.

It landed with a splash under the dinosaur. The sauropod's leg immediately lifted and landed on the weapon with a crunch.

The guard's face went blank, his mouth wide open. Then he snapped it shut and pulled a machete from his belt. Taking a step toward Josué, he held the blade high.

Josué put his hands in front of him, stretching his chain taut. He widened his stance and tried to slow his wildly beating heart. He could handle this man, if he had to – he hoped.

But before the guard could take another step, an inspection lorry flew over and stopped. The supervisor glared down at the Slave Master. "What is the meaning of this? Get that slave back on the plow. You're behind schedule."

"Just teaching a lesson, sir," the guard said, machete held high as though he would lunge at Josué.

"What kind of a lesson would you teach that one? She hasn't done anything wrong. If you can't obey orders, you will be removed. Do I make myself clear, s _lave_ master?"

"Yes, sir." The slave master sheathed his machete and set his jaw.

Josué saw a look of utter hatred for both him and the supervisor. The guard jerked his head toward the plow.

Josué stepped behind it in silence.

The slave master locked Josué's wrists onto the plow, looking ruefully up at the inspection lorry before mounting his sauropod and giving it a kick. The dinosaur took a step forward.

Josué had the sinking feeling their encounter wasn't over. As soon as the inspection lorry was out of sight, the slave master dismounted. He grinned with evil delight at Josué, drew his machete and broke into a run.

As the man drew close, Josué pulled back as far as his chains would allow. The man's arm lifted. Josué winced, waiting for the death blow that never came.

Through squinted eyes, he saw as a bright flash surrounded the man's body before exploding right through him. A stinging pain bore into Josué's chest. He heard the echo of a laser blast before blackness washed over him.

Chapter 10, Freedom

A hot mass burned into Josué's chest like viper jet wash. The smell of burnt flesh filled his nostrils. Felisa's voice rang in his water-logged ears, calling his name. Chains bit into his wrists, holding him suspended from the plow. A mouthful of marsh water splashed down his throat. Josué blinked at the bright sun and coughed.

He shook his head, stood to his feet and crouched below the plow to hide his very pink and not-so-feminine chest – thankfully, still whole.

He must have been hit by the laze blast through the guard's body. He felt at his chest, unable to believe he'd survived.

The Slave Master's supervisor flew over in the inspection lorry, blaster to his shoulder. "Are you all right?" the man asked, leaning over to him.

Josué looked up in shock. Had an Omri supervisor just spoken to him? The man's eyes didn't hold the same lazy hatred Josué had become accustomed to in the guards. He looked down quickly when he realized he'd made eye-contact.

The supervisor pointed his gun at the dead man, looking like he'd take another shot. "The idiot. He deserved to die. I'll send another rider. Stay where you are." The supervisor maneuvered his lorry around the sauropod and left the way he'd come.

Josué hung his head and gulped oxygen. He looked at Felisa, his chest heaving from pain and fear. "That was close," he choked out.

"Too close." Felisa brushed her hair from her face.

The settler slave shouted from across the plow, "I'm not taking another beating for you, Aissa . . . Josué, whatever your name is."

"It wasn't his fault," Felisa retorted. "Shut your mouth."

"So it _is_ a _he!_ You've got some nerve! If I didn't think they'd punish me for it, I'd report you. You'd better just keep your distance from me." Her eyes reflected more hatred toward him than he'd even seen in the guards.

Josué swallowed. His cover was blown. Even Felisa had called him a _he_. He wondered how long she had known and how many of the other slaves knew as well.

"Don't you ever touch me, or I'll scream and get us both killed," the settler girl shouted and looked away.

Josué felt his ears burn. What kind of a man was he to hide among a bunch of slave women, anyway? He slumped under the plow to avoid the stares of the others, wishing he were miles away.

He couldn't blame the settler girl for her comments. The old woman at the stocks came back to his mind. How much suffering would he cause before this was over? Had his father ever intended for him to remain in disguise this long?

Then the worst kind of thought came to him, _Have I disgraced my family?_

He wished at that moment he could talk to his dad, perhaps for one more second. Or catch a glimpse of the man's crooked smile. Josué closed his eyes, not liking the direction his thoughts were taking him. Had he done right?

The four of them sat in silence under the hot sun and waited for another dino-rider to arrive. When he did, the day finished with more sun, wet fields, and mud between his toes.

When it was finally over, he slunk back to the quad and crawled into his bed, not caring if he missed diner. Burying his head in his arm, he wondered how much longer he could go on. He'd failed in his disguise. The settler girl was breathing threats at him. What next?

Then he decided, and his breathing steadied. He would find a way to leave.

***

Josué awoke to darkness. Had he just heard the sound of a blaster or had it been part of his dream? He rubbed at his chest, still feeling tender there. His belly rumbled.

The distinct piercing high-pitched whine of a laser blast broke the quiet of the slave camp. Josué lifted his head and peered through the muddy window. Lights flashed beyond the quad, illuminating the outline of the mess hall.

He sat bolt upright, hope stirring in him. Could someone be attacking the Omri Family?

A detonation shook the ground.

Josué jumped off his bunk. As he landed, a ball of fire exploded against the windows. Glass blew into the room, knocking him backwards. Screams erupted around him. Another flash of light revealed huddled shapes and kicking sheets.

Slipping his shaking feet into his sandals, he decided _this_ could be his answer. He stepped over to Felisa's bunk.

"Let's get out of here," he said to her huddled form.

She popped her head out from under the sheet. "What? Why?"

"Do you want to stay a slave until you die?"

"No. But I don't want to go out and get killed running around the quad either." She threw her sheet back over her head.

He couldn't believe his ears. "Are you serious? Fine! Stay here. I'm getting out." He turned to go. "It will be just as dangerous in here as out there." He stepped to the door. Another explosion shook the building, as if to affirm his words.

Josué cracked the door open. A blurred figure rushed past the single guard standing watch over the slave house. The panicked-looking man shifted from foot to foot, glancing into the air.

As he threw the door open, the guard turned. Josué grabbed his shoulders and used a move Héctor had drilled into him on many a hot summer day. With a roll and a lift of his foot, he launched the guard off his feet and across the room, cringing at the pain from his wounded back. The man landed with a thud against the far wall, sinking to the floor upside-down.

Staggering to his feet, Josué stepped into the quad and almost jumped out of his skin when a cold hand slipped into his. He turned to see Felisa's adamant eyes stare back into his.

_Change your mind?_ he asked mentally.

She squeezed his hand. He led her out of the building and across the quad to the dining hall.

Despite his burst of confidence, his knees felt weak. The explosions and laze blasts reminded him all too much of the raid on his own family's manor. Steadying himself against the grey siding of the dining hall, he led Felisa to the far end of the building.

A rocket hurtled through the air over their heads. Another explosion shook the ground. Windows rattled, his chest resonating with the blast. Through the broken glass of the dining hall, he watched flames dance on tables.

At the corner of the building, Josué paused, stealing a look at the front gate. Artillery shells leaped from under the jungle canopy, arching across the open field and landing in an uneven, lazy pattern among the buildings.

A column of soldiers on armored vipers zoomed out of the jungle and over the wall. A blanket of laser fire knocked them from their mounts. Not a single soldier got through.

A rider-less vipers careened into the ground at Josué's feet. His heart leapt as he ran to what he hoped was another answer. His arms trembled as he reached for the handlebars.

"Come on." He hesitated only long enough to turn the machine around and steady it. Throwing his leg over the oblong seat, he revved the engine back to life.

"Are you sure you know how to fly these?"

"Just watch!"

Once her arms held his waist, he kicked the viper into action, zooming low and fast.

Wind blew tears to the corners of his eyes as he opened the viper up for all it was worth. He headed straight for the cover of the jungle then up and over the wall.

_Freedom!_ Josué wasn't sure he hadn't screamed the word at the top of his lungs.

Chapter 11, Beannie

Hernan Trevino picked his way through the wreckage of what had once been a well-kept manor grounds. He pulled his hood forward and stepped around a boulder, considering the effort of the Dominicci Family against House Omri.

The wall here was broken down in its entirety. Gutted buildings looked out onto the main gate, their blackened frames peering like empty eyes sockets.

Miguel gave Hernan a report on the battle that morning. The Dominicci Family had moved into concealed positions undetected. Their attack had possessed the true element of surprise. The advantage had been short lived, however. Dominicci fighters failed to penetrate beyond the wall and gain the higher ground. Their viper attack had been completely deflected.

Ormand had stopped the artillery attacks quickly, his soldiers storming from hidden tunnels in the jungle. Attack had been met with counter attack. Dominicci, shamefully, hadn't even known about the tunnels.

Hernan would have thought more from a Grandee. Even Porfirio could have done better. The offensive had died as quickly as it had started.

Guy Dominicci had remained in his manor the entire time. Hernan wondered if the man felt the losses. He had only sent a small portion of his troops.

Hernan shook his head. If only Dominicci had done more!

He stepped around a crater. All is not lost, he reminded himself. Hernan clenched his fist and consoled himself with thoughts of the Syndicate. The Trevino Family can still rise, he told himself. Ormand was at bay in Sonora City. They still had a bite – manor or no manor.

Hernan thought about the last conversation with his son. "It's a payoff to keep our mouths shut to the rest of the Galaxy," he had told Porfirio.

"I won't do it. It's against my principles," his son had responded.

"Damn your principles, it's about your survival," Hernan had argued.

In the end Porfirio had still refused, not wanting to compromise.

"You risk too much," Hernan had insisted. "With the price of Trevino wine, our family is endowed – better than any of the other families. Sales are increasing. Your new weapon promises to rocket us past any other family in the Galaxy, payroll or no payroll."

Now it was all gone and Porfirio with it. Well – not _all_ gone. There was the Syndicate. And there was Josué.

If Porfirio had been willing to count the revenue from the Syndicate, they could have claimed the title Grandee long ago. But, in the end, it had been Porfirio's cursed principles again.

Hernan shrugged his shoulders and rubbed the corner of his eye. The Syndicate would provide a fresh start for Josué – when he was ready. It was a base of power strong enough for any Family to re-establish itself.

Hernan considered Josué's circumstances – a slave in Ormand's camps. He shuddered to think of what it must be like, but knew it was for the best. Ormand needed his illusion of control and Hernan couldn't protect Josué any other way.

Josué will learn from it, he assured himself. Captivity can do wonders for a man. His own circumstances had taught him that much.

Hernan stopped at the door of Omri manor and looked back. He took in the toppled wall, the watchtower bent over like a broken needle and the cratered pockmarks across the front of the grounds.

The door opened. Hernan entered. A servant led him down the hall toward the back of Omri Manor.

Atlantos met him halfway, dismissing the servant. "This way, Master Trevino, you've been expected."

Hernan nodded and fell into step with the tall, slender man. He considered Atlantos' full head of wavy black hair and short mustache. The man possessed presence. Hernan hated him, but had to respect him nonetheless. Here walked a man who struck fear into the hearts of every ruling family.

Atlantos led Hernan to an open room with a wall of glass looking out onto the other side of Omri Manor. Hernan scanned the horizon, another testimony to the failed strategy of the Dominicci Family. The walled-in green field and jungle beyond looked pristine. Purple mountains rose beyond bushy heads of palm trees and overgrown vines. Not one crater marred this side of the landscape.

Ormand stood in the far corner of the room, holding an ancient Earth six-shooter in his thick hands. Its unpolished metal contrasted with the green carpet and silver walls. Ormand flipped it open, snapped it closed and spun its barrel. He aimed it out onto the lawn and squeezed the trigger. The mechanism clicked. Ormand spun the barrel again and smiled. He kept his dark eyes averted from Hernan. Atlantos crossed the room to stand opposite his master.

Ormand mumbled something Hernan barely caught – "The kid got away." The mechanism clicked again.

Hernan took a deep breath. So, that was why he'd been summoned. He steeled his expression and shoved his hands in his pockets. He hoped for Ormand's sake the boy was still alive. The Omri Family would soon discover the true power of the Syndicate if he wasn't.

"In Dominicci's attack." Ormand wheeled to face Hernan. His round face and ruffled hair seemed apologetic, though Hernan knew Ormand would never be apologetic. Fear had brought him to this point, fear of what the Syndicate could do.

"We had a guard," Ormand continued. He turned back to the green lawn and aimed his gun onto the grassy slope. The hammer landed with another dull, blank click.

"They should be out there soon, m'Lord." Atlantos walked over to the wall of windows and looked down at the green lawn. "Yes, there." He pointed his long arm down to a group of men huddled in a corner of the wall. Hernan looked into the courtyard and counted ten men.

Ormand put the gun in his belt and stepped to the window. His downturned mouth spread into a wicked grin.

In spite of himself, Hernan's curiosity drew him to the window. He stepped to where he could see the entire courtyard.

Ormand pressed his forehead against the glass. "Is that all of them?"

"It's all she can handle for now. Melanion has the others in the dungeon below." Atlantos turned to Hernan and gave a wry smile. "Captives from the Dominicci's raid."

Atlantos turned to Ormand. "Melanion has the camera." He put his hand in his pocket and leaned his shoulder against the window frame. " _Beannie_ will be here soon. When she smells blood, there is little to stop her." He had a strangely satisfied grin on his face.

"There she is." Ormand pointed.

Hernan looked. A creature with the bone collar of a ceratopsid, the body of an elephant and the face and teeth of a raptor lumbered into the enclosure.

"She's a beauty isn't she? We captured her on Loreto. She's one of a kind. Quite a hunter," Atlantos said.

"You're in for a treat." Ormand licked his lips, his eyes never leaving _Beannie_. He rested his foot against the window.

The beast entered slowly, seemingly disinterested at first. It sat down in the middle of the enclave and opened its mouth with a wide yawn. Wicked teeth glistened white against the grass. A purple tongue flickered out of its beaked mouth.

Dominicci's men spread along the wall. Hernan could read desperation on their faces.

Beannie stood to her feet, honed in on a man and ran with a quickening gait. The prisoner tried to escape, but the beast was deceivingly fast. Its awesome mass and sharp jaws cut the man in half before it tilted its head back and swallowed him in two bites.

Hernan caught a look of glee in Ormand's eyes. The grin on Atlantos' face matched it.

Hernan coughed, shifted his gaze around the room, and hoped he didn't look sick. Was this an attempt to distract him? Appease him? Frighten him?

He stepped to the door.

"We'll find him." Hernan heard as he walked out. "He can't be far."

One painful thought occupied Hernan's mind, _Josué is out there, unprotected!_

Chapter 12, The City

Lenny loosened the weapon strap on his leg and fidgeted in the darkness of the tall building. He maintained a visual on his target – an attractive woman in her mid-thirties. At the moment, she stood on her balcony and talked lightheartedly on her radiophone.

Lenny yawned and scratched the stubble on his face. He hadn't even had time for a shower. He smelled his pits then checked himself – he was here to kill her, not ask her out.

Too bad, he thought, she would make a nice date. She was the kind he could really get to know, the type to straighten him out. He stared up at her figure, her clean apartment and her neat, quick movements and wondered if she had anyone in her life.

"Do you see her?" the radio sounded in his ear with the familiar voice of his brother.

Lenny jumped and stepped back into the shadows. "Yes," he hissed into the mike. "Hey, how do you turn the volume down on these ear pieces?"

"I don't know. We'll be done before you have to worry about it. Where is she?"

"Balcony. On the phone. Wait. She just went back inside." Lenny crouched forward and lifted his binoculars. He could see the top of her head move above the balcony ledge before it disappeared to the lower right. He referred to the map on his scanner. "Looks like she's gone to the kitchen."

Lenny stretched to shake the jitters from his arms. They were too deep to be shaken, though. His assignments weren't usually this good looking. The last one had been a judge – a fat one at that. Lenny hadn't minded the hit. Judges were usually corrupt and this judge was going to sentence one of the boss's men.

They had tried the obligatory bribe, but the man had refused. Lenny and his brother turned out to be the only alternative to the justice system. He could understand a job like that. This one didn't make any sense. What could a woman like this have done to make the list?

Lenny rubbed the sleep from his eyes and checked his binoculars. She had returned to the living room. Her slender back bobbed above the window line. Putting her shoes on, he thought. It was an attractive back, smooth. She wore a thin, pink sweater. Lenny noticed how it highlighted her cheeks when she stood back up.

"Hey, what's the boss got against this one?" Lenny asked his brother. He needed something to make it go down easier.

"She wrote something in the papers, or something."

"Or something? It must have been a whole lot of something for her to get on the list."

"Are you kidding?" Stu's voice sounded dry. "The boss will kill you if you look at him wrong these days. Haven't you noticed how busy we've been?"

Lenny hadn't thought about it, but Stu was right. He'd been called out to more hits than usual this past month. He hadn't minded. It meant more cash.

"Did we do right to join?" Lenny asked.

"You mean to be sicario? Sure, we did right. Wouldn't you rather be the one doing the killing than the one being killed? Besides, it pays well, and no one will ever bother you again."

Lenny sighed. Stu was right. Being a member had its privileges. For one, Lenny enjoyed the popularity it brought to his life. He was a _somebody_ now, and though he hadn't met this woman, he had met more women than before he'd joined.

Lenny saw the door open and close. "She's on the move."

"Keep alert. If she comes out your side, follow her until I get there. We'll do this together." Stu must have noticed the tremble in Lenny's voice. Lenny was glad his brother was along. This job was definitely giving him trouble. There was no way he wanted to pull the trigger.

He mounted his viper and brought it to life. It purred, hovering over the ground. Putting his binoculars away, he un-strapped his gun from his leg and slung it over his shoulder before checking the safety.

Giving the throttle some juice, he lurched onto the street. She would be in a covered hover lorry. He tried not to think too much about what he was doing and drove slowly along the side of her building.

When he got to the corner she pulled up beside him. Her hair was shoulder length, blond. He watched her in awed silence as she looked in the mirror and finished a stroke of makeup.

It was _early_. Lenny didn't envy the hours she had to keep, though he respected them. If it were up to him he would still be asleep – for several more hours. The charts said this lady left every day at this time. Better her than him.

"She's out." He had to work to keep his voice steady. The jitters were in his whole body, now.

The sound of his brother's viper came from an alley to his left. "Coming your way."

Lenny looked in his mirror and watched his brother pull up behind her. He slowed and angled to the side of the street. He didn't want to watch, but as she started to pass, he found he couldn't keep his eyes away.

He caught sight of her face just before his brother's blast tore through the back window and smashed her body into the front of the lorry. She had been beautiful.

Stu's voice interrupted his feeling of nausea. "Let's get out of here." His brother's viper zoomed around the other side of the street, paused then cut ahead and down a side street.

Lenny reached in and felt for a pulse. She was dead. He took the photo for their payment. What a waste! He shrugged before pushing his viper into action and cutting down an alley.

Lenny's whole body shook by now. Sonora City had become a dangerous place.

Book 2

Sonora City

Chapter 1, Anointing

Josué steered the viper over the Omri wall and into the jungle, his tattered tunic flapping in the wind. Laser blasts ripped over his head like screaming raptors.

In spite of the fact neither he nor Felisa looked like a threat, he held his breath through the line of attacking soldiers. A warrior with the insignia of the Dominicci Family blazoned across his chest tracked their progress over the battle trench, blaster raised.

When they were past, Josué turned the viper toward empty jungle and waited for the distance to silence the battle behind them. They flew for what seemed like a lifetime before Felisa's hand reached in front of him and pointed to a silvery shimmer in the trees.

"There," she shouted over the whipping wind and viper engine drone. "Aim for the river."

Josué turned his aching shoulders in its direction. They could find shelter down there, and it would be better than deep jungle. He skidded to a stop on a green patch of grass jutting out over the water.

In spite of the fact he'd turned the engine off and he was lying face down in the grass, the he could still hear a high-pitched whine. It took several breaths more before the noise of the water, the swaying of the trees and the quietness of the night seeped into him.

Turning over, he stared into the night sky. They were free!

What had he just been through? He held up a shaking hand in the fading light. Mud streaks marked the spaces between his fingers like blood. His shoulder jerked involuntarily. Hot sticky trickle burned against his tunic.

"Nice driving." Felisa's toes tapped him on the head.

Josué turned to her. The heavily shielded vehicle behind her looked more like an overgrown beetle than anything else. It was hardly the sleek bike he'd been used to riding. "It's a clunker with those shields on it, but it got us through."

The night sun perched on the horizon like a phantom moon. The darkness after it set would be a welcome veil.

Felisa sat up. Her silhouette against the night sky reminded him of something he couldn't quite place. Her teeth flashed through a crooked smile. It was a much warmer expression than the one she'd had that same morning.

"Have you forgiven me for using the _link_?" He propped himself up with an elbow.

"I just can't believe we're free."

"Yes." Josué cradled his head with his hands. "Now we have to _stay_ free – and alive." He looked down at the mass of trees looming not thirty yards from his feet.

"We'll be okay. The sacred sands protect us."

He thought about her statement. Hadn't Matteo from the native village said something about sacred sands? "What _are_ sacred sands?"

She shrugged. "They bind us to the ancient ones. Some call them the voice of the planet." Her head turned to the river then to the jungle then to his face. "I don't really know how to describe it. It's like the air, only . . . fuller."

Through the night shadows he could just make out her eyes. They were alive and focused on him. He wished he could see into them. This was the conversation he'd wanted to have at the stocks. "So are _you_ are an elder?"

"I was anointed to be an elder – at birth. That gave me the link. But I was captured before I got my second anointing. You need more than one anointing to be an elder."

Josué watched her as she stared into the mass of trees and vines across the river. He closed his eyes. "So you're connected by the sands to the dinosaurs, the jungle, the marsh and the mountains? Is that it? You get an anointing and then you can talk with your mind." He sat up and crossed his legs.

Felisa nodded, but said nothing. Her face was still turned to the jungle and she looked truly at peace.

He sat there, too; glad he wasn't alone. Glad _she_ was with him. The jungle offered comfort. It always had. Its deep smells and soft nighttime sway had always seemed to beckon to him, calm him.

The sun dipped below the horizon. She turned to him. "So where did you learn those fancy viper moves?"

He chuckled. "You call those fancy? You couldn't do anything fancy with _this_ hover bike." He reached past her to rock the bike. "You should see the one . . ." but his voice broke when he thought of his home and the desolation there. His bike was a thing of the past, now. _Nothing_ would be at Trevino Manor.

A lump in his throat made it impossible to go on. He could sense her waiting for him to continue, but he just couldn't. He lay down on his back and looked at the sky, willing himself not to cry.

"You used to own a hover bike then?"

He nodded and hoped she could see the movement of his head.

"You were captured with the Trevino slaves, weren't you?"

He cleared his throat. "My father was Porfirio Trevino." He grimaced at how his voice wavered. "I was in the camp in disguise. If they had known who I was, they would have killed me."

She nodded and lay back, next to him. "I kind of figured that out when the older slave called you Josué."

He smiled and wiped at his cheek. "It's not a common name, I guess."

"The settler girl had almost figured you out. I bet she's sad you're gone. She might have turned you in for a reward."

"I hadn't thought about that." Josué looked at her then at the sky. "She hated me."

Felisa laughed. "She did."

He chuckled one more time before a wave of exhaustion washed over him.

***

_Josué_ , the whisper rolled across his consciousness. The gentle intonation tugged at him.

He opened his eyes to a pale blue sky. The hush of the wind through the trees reminded him of the voice still hanging in the air like a dream not quite vanished. He propped himself up with both elbows and looked into the jungle.

" _Josué_ ," the whisper came again. It pierced through the rushing of the river and the swaying of the trees. He got to his feet just as a shadow darted into the darkness of the underbrush.

He looked over at Felisa. Her chest rose and fell in deep slumber. _She'll be fine_ , he told himself.

Stepping into the tree line, he brushed back a vine. The foliage was thick here. He stretched his back and noticed the pain had gone. The plush grass must have done wonders, he thought. He ran a finger along a jagged scar across his shoulder. The scab already healed.

" _Josué_ ," the whisper echoed through the trees.

He scanned the canopy. A cloaked figure flitted between two branches a hundred yards away. Marking where it had been, he ran toward it, noticing how strong he felt. The freedom of the trees and the underbrush almost overwhelmed him. When he reached his mark he stopped. There was nothing here.

"Josué!" the word was no longer a whisper. It was a woman's voice and it had called his name with authority. He turned his head to see her standing on the far side of a clearing.

A grey robe hung around her shoulder. Her skin and irises glowed golden in the midst of the jungle around her. His mouth felt dry.

Stepping over to her, he stopped opposite the sandy clearing. She remained still as he walked. Only her eyes followed him.

Bright warm sunlight shone on the sandbar between them.

"Who are you? How did you get here?" he asked.

But she turned and walked back into the jungle as if he hadn't been there at all.

Josué took a step into the clearing to follow and pitched forward. His foot sank into sand that wasn't sand. Before he could stop himself, he had fallen up to his shoulders. "Quicksand!" he shouted.

He struggled to turn back, but every movement he made pulled him further down and in. It was up to his ears, now. His heart raced. His mind reeled. What should he do? He couldn't see the woman. Could she see him?

He tilted his head back, trying to push down with his foot, but the motion only dragged him in further. His legs were leaden weights, pulling him down.

"Help," he cried.

The woman walked around the clearing with a slow, deliberate step, a grave expression framing her face.

He lifted out his arm to her, but she didn't take it. "Help!" he shouted with more anger than he'd expected.

She looked at him. _This will be your second anointing, Josué_ , he heard in his head. _Let it fill you . . . Let it prepare you for what is to come._

"Help me!" he cried before grime filled his ears. Sandy liquid touched the corners of his mouth. He coughed. Then wished he hadn't.

Chapter 2, The Raptor

Josué coughed again, but it felt more like a regurgitation of his lungs. The violence of the movement pushed sand and slime out of his nose and mouth. Air pulled its way back into his chest, burning as it made its way down.

The ground under his knees felt solid and precious. How he'd gotten there, he could only guess. He put his hand against a tree. Wet, heavy mud slid between his shoulders and off his back. He took a hesitatingly-deep breath, thankful to be able to, thankful to be alive.

He pulled himself up and saw light. It was more of a streak in his mind than a recognizable image. He was sure someone had replaced his eyeballs with sandy mud. When he blinked, agony shot through his head and down his spine. Gritting his teeth, he wiped his face until he could see trees.

He took another breath, thankful it didn't end with a gag reflex. His body felt ten times heavier than it should. He staggered in a direction he hoped would take him back to the river. His heart quickened when he heard the muffled sound of water through plugged ears.

When he stumbled onto the grassy knoll by some miracle, Felisa's surprised look met his. "What happened to you?"

"Quicksand." He choked on the word and proceeded to a coughing fit that forced him to his knees.

He felt her hand on his back. "Let's get you into the water." She led him down the bank and into the river.

The cold was a shock, but the cloak of mud insulated him from the worst of it. The memory of the day he and his father had rescued the native somewhere along this same river came back to him. Thankfully, it wasn't as cold as it had been that day.

Josué held up a clean hand. It did look pale – like a settler's.

"There! You look almost human again," Felisa said with a smile in her voice.

He drank the water, amazed at how good it tasted. "I _feel_ almost human again." He looked at her, startled to see a clarity in her eyes he hadn't seen before. The night in the jungle must have been good for her too.

"What are _you_ looking at?" she asked.

His smile widened as he tried to think of something smart to say. Then his blood turned cold when he noticed a large shadow in the tree-line. He stopped moving. Jagged teeth gleamed from under the foliage. Fierce eyes glinted in the morning light.

Josué stepped backward. _Don't move_ , he said mentally. _Raptor!_

The creature peered into the clearing from the broken underbrush and sniffed. Felisa stiffened – her eyes wide.

Josué stepped back to the far bank. His only plan was to distract the beast. If he'd thought it through, he might have tried standing still himself. He didn't think it through.

His foot slipped on the far side of the bank. The dinosaur's head turned to him like an auto-cannon.

Josué watched it coil in the tree line. The muscles on the animal's powerful neck braced. How much time would he have if the animal leapt, he wondered.

Before his eyes traced the distance between them, the animal launched itself across the river like a rocket.

Felisa shrieked as the tail whipped past her face. Desperation rose in his chest. The beast moved quicker than he'd thought possible.

He scrambled onto the bank and shouted, "Use the viper cannon!" He hoped she'd been watching last night, or maybe flown one before, somehow.

Thankfully, the dinosaur slipped on the same muddy bank. Josué took advantage of the precious second, grabbed a vine and pushed himself over the river.

The vine, however, didn't cooperate, catching in the canopy halfway across. It shuddered and dropped him a few inches from the current.

Felisa grabbed the viper handlebars, her fingers working the starter. "Hurry!" he cried. The cold water lapped at his tunic.

The engine caught and revved just as the vine jerked violently. A tail slapped his head. Josué let go.

He splashed into the chilly current and kicked. A second splash pushed him up and away. The noise of the viper hovered near him. "Get on," Felisa shouted.

Scrambling halfway onto the bike, he looked down. The animal had crawled onto the bank and was readying to leap at them again.

"How do you use the cannon?" Felisa asked over her shoulder.

"The red trigger – there." Josué pointed to the left handlebar.

She squeezed it and a laser bolt shot across the water.

"Aim it at the raptor."

"I'm trying!"

He dove into the river just as the raptor's head slammed into the side of the hover bike, sending it into a tailspin.

The world was lost in a flurry of bubbles. A large talon snagged his tunic, pinning him against the soft river bottom. His lungs burned in his chest with the weight of the animal.

Just when he thought he couldn't stand it any longer, a red cloud blossomed in the water above him. The raptor's talon lifted from his chest in slow motion.

He pushed to the surface and gasped. The body of the beast floated beside him, a long burn mark across its neck.

"Nice shot."

"Lucky for you." Felisa smiled.

Josué grabbed the tail of the beast and pulled it onto the bank. Memory of the meal he'd eaten at the native village set his stomach rumbling. "Raptor for breakfast?"

Chapter 3, The Agent

The lone agent for the President of the Parliamentary Revisionist Party waited in a trance, watching the roaring fire in the center of the small room.

He puzzled over the need for a fire on this planet. Toreon was cool this time of year; a fire wouldn't have been out of place there. Here it was perpetually summer. Who would have even built a fireplace this big?

The agent stood as far away from it as possible. Every now and then he would rock back a little too much, his hand would make contact with the scorching brick wall and he would jump.

There was a faint toasty smell in the air. A downward glance revealed steam coming from his pants and shoes – or was it smoke?

He loosened his collar and removed his tie, something he should have done hours ago. If he'd been a man needing to lose weight, he would have welcomed his time here. As it was, he felt himself sweating into nothing.

He glanced at his watch. Had it really been _three_ hours?

Trying to turn without scorching his legs against his pants, he ran his fingers through his thin damp hair. At least he wasn't in the city. He'd lost count of the explosions and laser blasts he'd heard last night. Sonora City had proven to be the war zone he'd heard it was.

The morning newscast had taken his appetite away. "Twenty-Seven Dead" was the headline. The Omri Family had clearly won the body count. Their unique way of marking kills was graphic and unmistakable. The news anchor had gone into great detail to describe it, complete with vivid 3D images. The agent shuddered at the memory.

Thankfully, his unpleasant thoughts were interrupted by a tall figure with dark hair. Though the man's piercing features and steel eyes did little to set him at ease.

"Are you here to see Ormand?"

The agent tried to think of who else he might be here to see, but only nodded, smiled, and said, "Yes. I'm from Mr. Apolino's office." He hoped the name of Mr. Apolino would win him a margin of respect even on this backward planet.

"Our Parliamentary Agent then." The tall man gave a hungry smile. "Welcome to Sonora IV. I'm Atlantos. Have you waited long?"

The agent had heard the name Atlantos before. He put his hands in his pocket, wincing at the burning sensation. Shaking his head, he lied. "Not long."

"Mr. -" Atlantos paused and sniffed, as though he were trying to tell if the agent was fully done.

"Ciro, Mr. Ciro."

Atlantos smiled as if satisfied then turned to lead Mr. Ciro down a long, stone passageway. "I presume you arrived from Toreón and found your accommodations in the city pleasant?" Atlantos asked over his shoulder.

"Yes, sir. Nice accommodations." Mr. Ciro almost slapped his forehead. Had he really just called this man, _sir_? Three hours in a sweat room must have rattled him more than he'd guessed. At least his clothing had started to cool. He could almost bend his legs without burning them against his pants.

After more corridors than Mr. Ciro would have thought possible in a manor this size, they came to a wide room. A full bar stood to the left. Beyond it a long pastel-pink couch sat in front of a hologram wall. A curly mop of oily-black hair hung over the back.

The afternoon newscast showed, "Thirty-Seven Dead," a revised figure from the morning. They must have found more bodies, thought Mr. Ciro. The anchorwoman was just starting to show the close-ups. Mr. Ciro busied himself looking at the wine bottles standing in a row at the back of the bar. Atlantos left Mr. Ciro there and maneuvered past the couch to lean over and speak in Ormand's ear.

Atlantos stood to his full height and motioned for Mr. Ciro to sit next to Ormand then deputy found a seat opposite the couch in the corner of the room. Mr. Ciro gingerly stepped around to sit on the edge.

Ormand's hairy chest looked as if it had been stuffed into his open-collared polo shirt. His large arms hung at his sides, one hand barely closing around a beer can and the other around an old fashioned remote.

Mr. Ciro glanced at Ormand then tried to find a way to look again without being obvious. The man's dull eyes and half-opened mouth gave him the look of being stoned.

Mr. Ciro waited.

At the end of the newscast, an ad for Trevino wine aired. Ormand finally moved. He licked his lips and drank absently from his can.

Mr. Ciro shifted in his seat. The room had the smell of socks mixed with smoky oil. He wished he were at a desk, or in some more formal setting. The couch sagged, forcing him closer to Ormand than he liked.

Ormand stretched his arms wide, yawned and turned off the holo-wall. He ran his fingers through his hair and aimed a lazy eye at Mr. Ciro.

"So, what's old Apolino up to these days?"

" _Mr_. Apolino sends his congratulations on your ascension in the ranks of Sonora IV." Mr. Ciro fixed a big smile on his face. He was vaguely aware his words were having no effect. He had planned them for a more formal setting. "You are now – er, considered a Grandee. As they call it?"

"We've been a Grandee for more than a month. What took 'ol Appy so long to notice?" Ormand turned his eyes to Atlantos. A dull unimpressed look hung on both of their faces. "Is that why you're here?"

Mr. Ciro cleared his throat and pulled at the skin under his chin. He crossed his arms, wondering what else he could say to cushion his next bit of news. "Uh, Mr. Apolino has an interest in the young Trevino boy, Josué." The agent glanced nervously from Ormand to Atlantos. Something felt wrong about his timing, but he had to continue.

"What about him?" Ormand crumpled the beer can in his fist and gritted his teeth staring at Atlantos from beneath bushy eyebrows.

"He's escaped," Mr. Ciro replied, feeling fidgety. A bead of sweat made its way down his left armpit, though his feet felt cold as ice. Mr. Ciro cleared his throat. "In Apolino's eyes this is unacceptable. He'd like you to – er, find the boy, and – uh, finish the job. Oh – that includes the grandfather – he told me – to tell you." Mr. Ciro adjusted his collar then sat on his hands.

Ormand stared at Atlantos and said nothing.

Gradually, after a long pause, Mr. Ciro watched Ormand's grip on the beer can relax. Finally the man sat back and took a sip from the crumpled can then smiled.

Chapter 4, The City

Josué looked at what was left of the raptor. He wished they could take it with them. Not that he was hungry now; he just wasn't sure where their next meal would come from.

The viper sat on the bank of the river, its heavy shields with the Dominicci Family crest across them truly made it look like a clunker. If he removed the shields, he was sure he could get it to fly faster. He inspected the mounts and found they slipped off easily enough.

_What's your plan, Jo-su-é?_ Felisa asked mentally, adding an extra syllable to his name.

He looked at her from behind the viper. "Why did you prohibit me from using the link that night at the stocks?"

She paused. "Well, at first, when I heard you – I didn't get it. In my mind, you sounded like you are now – a guy. But you were supposed to be _a_ _girl_ , remember?"

Josué looked up. "Of course!"

Felisa crossed her legs. "When I watched you disarm the guard the next day – I started to figure things out. If it hadn't been for the slave woman calling you Josué, it would have taken much longer. I guessed who you were and figured I could trust you. When you escaped, I decided to go with you."

Josué smiled. "Sounds like you thought it through."

"It helped that you were half-native and I knew you had the link. I guess."

He shook his head. "So, is the link really only for elders?"

"Yes."

"So, why do I have it?"

Felisa's brow wrinkled. "I don't know. Did your mother ever anoint you? You can only get the link through an anointing in the sacred sands. That's what produces it."

"I never knew my mother." Josué concentrated on a shield mount. "I thought all natives were 'dunked in the marsh' at birth?" He was sure he'd heard his nurse say something about that, growing up.

"True, most natives are dipped in the marsh, but only elders are anointed in the sacred sands. That's where the special link is formed."

Josué looked into the fire. Hadn't the woman in the jungle called the quicksand an anointing? He half-smiled to himself. If that was an anointing, he hoped it was his last.

"So what's your plan, Jo-su-é?" she asked again, pulling him from his thoughts.

He turned to the viper. "I have a grandfather in Sonora City." He unhinged the last shield and hefted it into the jungle. "But he's in jail."

"Are you going to bust him out?" she asked with a smirk.

He looked at her and chuckled. Her relaxed manner was a welcome change from the coldness at the stocks. "Why?"

"I mean how do you plan to get to him without papers, or identification? We'll have a hard enough time walking the streets and not getting arrested in these tunics." She looked down at her tattered slave clothes and scrunched her nose.

"You're right." He leaned against the viper seat and put his chin in his hand.

Felisa sat next to him. She reached down to pick up a raptor claw. "We could sell these . . . ." She tossed it over to where they had placed the head against a tree. "They could buy us clothes at least."

Josué nodded. "Good idea. Have you ever been to the city?"

"Once. To sell a raptor skull. That was when I was young."

"I was in the city once, too, but that was to see Parliament – hardly a useful experience." He picked up the head and claws and tied them into the viper side-packs.

They threw what was left of the animal into the river. Something would eat it. Even bones didn't stay around long on Sonora IV.

Josué grabbed for the handle of the viper, intending to throw his leg around the seat, but his fingers curled around her hand instead. "It's my turn to drive," Felisa said with firm determination.

Josué rocked back on his heels and looked sideways at her. "Are you sure?"

Her hips edged him out of the way as she threw _her_ leg over the seat. "I know the city better than you do. Plus, I'm getting the feel for this bike."

Josué got on behind her. "Maybe you should take it slow," he offered, but before he could fully reach around her waist they were off.

***

The river led them until they could see the city spires against the backdrop of a large mountain range. Brown dust clouds marked a hover lorry's passage along the road to the northwest of the city.

Ahead of them, stone walls rose from the plain like the sides of a massive nest. Shielded parapets lined the tops of the walls like the scales on the back of a stegosaurus.

The last time Josué visited Sonora City his father hadn't used roads. They had flown directly to Parliament, the tower rising above the other buildings at the center of the city.

A glance back at the jungle left him with a feeling he was leaving someplace safe. As Felisa flew under the massive stone archway of the city he turned to face forward. Inside the massive arched entryway, the scars on his back gave him a sense of oneness with the people he saw, especially when he noticed their hardened features.

Storefronts and apartments along the narrow streets were a maze of stone and glass. He held onto the back of the viper, thankful Felisa was driving.

As she turned down a side alley, he couldn't stop the shudder that passed through him. The concrete and brick was confining.

She took them through the buildings and alleys to a storefront and parked on the street. "Is this it?" Josué got off the bike and looked into the window. The store seemed to carry everything from rare coins to viper parts and weapons. His eyes lingered on a blaster.

"I think so. You'd better let me do the talking," she said.

Josué gathered the claws and head from the side-pack. _No problem_ , he replied mentally, walking to the door and opening it with his foot. He felt the need to get off the street quickly. A few too many heads had turned in their direction along the way. Felisa had been right. They stuck out.

The shop owner was a short man with a round belly and a long scar on his cheek. He seemed to warm to Felisa from the start. Josué wondered if the man were half native. He did have a yellowish tint to his skin like Josué's, though he dressed and acted like a settler.

When Felisa was done, she had managed to trade for clothes and enough money to see them through the week. The shopkeeper even threw in two pairs of boots when he saw the condition of their sandals.

After two months, boots felt like walking on a cloud. Josué looked down at his leather pants and t-shirt. "Do you think we'll fit in?"

She smiled at him out of the corner of her eyes. "Definitely."

When they exited the store, he jerked to a stop. A man, a full head taller than he, sat on the seat of their vehicle. Arms the size of tree trunks moved the viper handlebars back and forth. Another man, wiry but also tall, admired the leather and trim.

Felisa's face turned as pale as a settler's. _What should we do?_

Josué sized them up. _I'll speak with them_ , he said more confidently than he felt. He'd never fought men this big before, but Héctor had always told him size didn't matter. Josué hoped he was right.

"Sorry, gents, the bike's not for sale." He let his arms hang loose at his side.

The one sitting on the bike stood up from the seat and walked over to him. Josué kept his eyes averted, holding his ground.

"We weren't planning to _pay_ for it, kid." The man tried to push Josué into the store wall, but Josué grabbed his forearms and transferred the force of the push. His feet remained firmly planted.

"Then we'll be leaving on it." Josué moved to step around the bigger guy.

The tall, lanky one barred his way, staring down at him. "I don't think you understand, kid," he said through gritted teeth. "The bike is _ours_ , now. Hand over the keys or we'll kill you and your girlfriend."

Josué smiled and shifted back. By the first man's attempt at a throw, Josué guessed they lacked formal training. He prepared himself for an unconventional attack.

The large man moved to grab Josué by the collar. Josué pushed the man's hand to the side then twisted it down and around until he felt the shoulder pop.

A grunt of surprise and pain escaped the big man. Josué followed up with a knee to the gut.

The lanky one tried to slip a headlock around Josué. Josué scrunched his shoulders and backed away, scooping up the man's leg. He shouted and slammed his elbow into the man's thigh, pinning him to the concrete.

The lanky one cried out in pain and lay still. Josué remembered the time Héctor had tried that move on him. He knew only too well how much it hurt.

The larger man lunged at Josué with his good arm. Josué sidestepped and landed a chop to the man's neck. His eyes rolled up into his head as he fell, all weight, on top of his friend.

Josué turned to Felisa and motioned for her to start up the viper. Felisa kicked the bike into action. He jumped behind her and they flew off before the two men could get up. Glancing behind him, he wished he could have fought like that the night of the raid. He wondered if he could have saved Héctor.

"I don't know if you should have done that," Felisa called over her shoulder. "Those two may come looking for you."

"How could they find us in a city this big?"

Chapter 5, Satisfaction

The further they ventured, the more Josué noticed blast mark after blast mark on the walls and walkways of the city. Burnt-out buildings, bomb craters and holes marred the landscape like sores on a ceratopsid.

_Do you remember seeing this much destruction the last time you were here?_ he asked.

Felisa shook her head. _Something's changed._

Josué wondered what could have happened. The city had never looked this bad, even from seventeen stories up. The setting sun shone in his eyes through the passing buildings.

_They close the gates at sunset_ , Felisa said.

That doesn't give us much time.

They found the jail at the center of the city. It was an oval building shaped like an egg. It stood between Parliament and a one-story restaurant.

The smells from the restaurant drew Josué's attention first. How long had it been since he'd had a full meal? The wooden-trimmed colonial architecture of the place contrasted with the modern, ten story concrete towers around it. A worn walkway led along the front, giving it an inviting look. Above the doorway, a painted wooden sign hung with the picture of a woman eating a large cluster of grapes, her head tilted back. A broad smile played across her lips.

"Park over there," Josué pointed to a spot in front the low building. The sun snuck below the horizon as he dismounted to stand on the sidewalk. "It might be a little late to try and see grandfather." He stared at the massive oval building without windows. "How do we get in?"

Just then his stomach made a loud grumble. The continual smell of grilled meat was making his knees feel weak. "Let's stop and eat," Felisa suggested.

"Can you use the sands to read minds?"

She laughed.

He held the door.

Inside, the host greeted them with a silent nod, looking at them from under bushy eyebrows. A long mustache matched his curly black hair. He gave them a sideways glance before leading them to a table along the back wall.

"Is it always this empty?" Josué asked.

"You are early. It will be crowded soon." The man replied, leaving them with menus.

Josué leaned forward. "Well, at least it's quiet."

His eyes barely scanned the first page before loud voices and heavy boots on the wooden floor contradicted his statement. A group of men crowded into the doorway.

"Uh-oh." Josué slouched low, his heart pounding. Two of the faces had looked a little too familiar.

"There they are." The high-pitched, whiney voice of the lanky man from the pawn shop rang across the restaurant. The group started toward their table. "Thought you could hide, huh, little runt?" The lanky man scattered chairs and tables in his stiff-legged haste to cross the room.

No place to go, Josué half rose from his chair and turned to face the men.

"Hold it, Jaco." A burly man with a thin mustache and black hair stepped in front of the one he'd called Jaco. "Let's do this the right way."

Josué wondered what they intended to 'do' and what exactly the 'right way' would be, but focused his attention on controlling the pounding of his heart and evening his breath. It wouldn't do to show fear, he reminded himself.

Jaco's blond hair was brushed forward; his steel-grey eyes bore holes into Josué's chest. The man rolled his sleeves and huffed as he stood behind the larger fellow.

The larger man walked over to their table and looked down at Josué. "Jaco says you attacked him and Donato in front of the pawnshop earlier today."

"They threatened to kill us if we didn't give them our viper," Felisa said adamantly.

"I'm talking to this gentleman here, Miss. Please, stay out of this." The man turned back to Josué. "What of it? Did you have a run-in with my man, Jaco, or not?"

Josué stood the rest of the way up as calmly as he could, holding onto his chair for support and to hide the trembling in his knees. He took a deep breath and spoke. "This man and I had an encounter, yes." He fought the quiver in his voice. "I believed it was fair, but if Jaco would like satisfaction, I'd be happy to give it." He swallowed and looked at the big man's chest.

The comment produced a murmur from the others in the crowd. Men shuffled into a semi-circle around the table. Hands rubbed together. Money exchanged. Josué had a feeling he had just become the night's entertainment.

He tried to look confident. Héctor's admonition to fight when no other options presented themselves came to mind. No other options presented themselves at the moment.

The larger man looked at Josué then at Jaco. "Very well, since Jaco has issued the challenge and you have accepted – name your weapon."

Josué's heart skipped. The man had interpreted it as Jaco's challenge! It was a break he hadn't hoped for. "The full-staff," he said before the man could change his mind. He did his best to swallow a smile and hoped they had a full-staff handy. It wasn't a weapon you could easily carry around. If they didn't, perhaps something similar would do. If Josué had to fight, he was sure he could put on a respectable show with that weapon, even if he didn't outright win.

The large man motioned to a member of the crowd. Someone produced a wide box from the back of the restaurant. They brought it to Josué. Inside was a pair of metal telescoping staffs. Josué's eyes watered at the sight of them. They were beautiful weapons with carved grips and silver tips. What luck to have them!

Josué picked one up and felt its weight. He nodded at the man and twisted the staff. It shot out to full length and locked into place with a click. It was obviously made of the best materials.

The man offered Jaco the remaining staff. Jaco twisted his to lock it into place then twisted a second time to reveal a set of knives on either end. Josué gulped. He wasn't familiar with this feature.

"Are you sure you know how to use these, boy?" Jaco snarled.

Josué found the knives in his own staff and twirled it around his body to get the feel of it. The blades whistled as they cut through the air. He could do this – he hoped.

"Very well then – a fight to the death," the larger man said.

Josué raised his eyebrows. He'd never killed a man before, other than what had happened in the marsh, but that hadn't been _him_ doing the killing. The dinosaur and supervisor had done those.

The big man held his hand in the air between the two combatants. "Ready?" He looked at Josué.

Josué nodded.

"Go!" the man shouted and stepped back.

Before Josué could settle into his stance, Jaco was on him and pressing hard. Josué met him in stride, making sure to move his feet and keep his balance.

Jaco came in with a slash and a jab. Josué blocked it and parried with a poke that snuck under Jaco's defense. He twisted the pole and nicked the larger man in the ribs.

A maroon stain blossomed on Jaco's white shirt. Murmurs of, "first blood," rippled through the crowd. Josué caught a glimpse of more money changing hands.

Jaco jumped back and looked down at his shirt, giving Josué enough time to get into a proper stance. He twirled his staff, laid it across one shoulder and waited – eyes on Jaco.

Jaco came at him with renewed fury. Josué stood his ground, his arms moving back and forth, in and out. He blocked the hacks, slashes and pokes. He jumped clear of one and ducked under another. Memories of the weapons room filled him with strength and vigor.

Jaco lunged. Josué leaned back, extending his staff at the same time. The point of Josué's knife blocked Jaco's way. Off balance, Jaco walked into it, face first. Josué felt the soft press of flesh against the bladed tip.

Jaco growled with a mixture of pain and anger. The man felt at his face and stared at the blood on his hand.

Josué watched the anger build as blood pulsed from the side of Jaco's cheek. Crouching, he twirled his staff and waited for the rain of blows Héctor warned would come from an enraged opponent.

Jaco came at Josué fast, furious, and full of errors. Josué worked his way to the other side of the room, blocking each strike as he moved. Finally, he managed to trap Jaco's staff against the floor with his boot. With a twist of his foot, he snapped off one of the blades.

He watched Jaco's chest heave. A slight tremble shook the man's arms. He'd spent a lot of energy in his attack. Now was the time.

Josué started to move, opening Jaco's defense with a quick right-left, enough to land a kick on the man's chest. It sent Jaco across the room and into a table. The lanky man fell to the ground then stood hastily to his feet.

Josué watched Jaco's eyes. He could see the hate, and something else there – _treachery_. Josué barely saw the hand flash before the knife was in the air. With a twist of his wrist, Josué knocked the blade to the ground with his staff. It stuck there, point buried in the floor.

The room fell silent.

"Foul!" The burly man jumped up between the two and pointed at Jaco. "Get him out of here." Two men grabbed Jaco from behind and wrestled him to the door. The big man walked over to Josué and grabbed his forearm. "We have a winner!" He raised Josué's hand into the air amidst scattered cheers and more money exchanging hands. Josué bowed his head, grateful for the sense of decorum, even among these men.

Jaco cursed from the front of the restaurant. The man holding him tried to silence him then cried out in pain and clutched his arm. Blood seeped through his fingers. The noise of a blaster shook the building. When Josué looked, Jaco lay dead in the doorway. The men dragged him out in silence.

Acting as though nothing had happened, the large man threw his arm over Josué's shoulders and walked him to the table where Felisa had sat back down and was trying not to look flustered. "Alberto, a meal for the winner," the man called into the kitchen.

"Yes sir, Mr. Germán." The host shouted from behind the kitchen doors.

"Now, tell us your name and I'll decide whether you can live," Germán said loudly, his head back, a huge grin on his face. Josué sat down across from Felisa. The big man squeezed into the seat beside him.

"My name is Josué, Josué Trevino."

Chapter 6, Smugglers

Josué watched Germán's Adam's apple bob. A red tinge showed on the big man's cheeks. Alberto arrived with a glass of ale, interrupting the shock on his face.

Germán lifted the mug and took a long draught. When his arm came back down he was chuckling. "He almost got me on that one. He-he, Josué Trevino. _I'm_ Josué Trevino." Germán laughed out loud and took another sip, winking at Felisa.

"He _is_ Josué Trevino," Felisa replied with sincerity in her eyes.

Germán hardened his expression and said firmly, "Josué Trevino was killed in the Omri raid. Who doesn't know that? Even off-worlders have heard about the Trevino Family massacre."

"I was disguised and taken captive by the Omri Family," Josué said. "We only just escaped in the Dominicci raid. That's one of their battle vipers out front."

"You can fight like Josué Trevino, I'll give you that." Germán nodded and wiped his mouth. "I've only seen one better use of the full staff on the planet. Jaco didn't know what he was getting into when he challenged you."

Germán remained silent a moment, staring at Josué out of the corner of his eyes. It was obvious the man still didn't believe him.

"Well, if you are Josué Trevino, this city is not a safe place for you." Germán glared at him. "I can offer you protection, but only if you come with us. Otherwise, I would suggest you leave Sonora City as fast as you can. The Omri Family has a crushing grip on it. If Ormand or Atlantos were to find a person claiming to be Josué Trevino around . . . ."

Josué shuddered. The very names of those men made his teeth clench.

The red glow of the night sun showed through the storefront windows. They would need a place to go for the night. Germán's offer of protection was tempting. Their short time in the city had proven how dangerous the streets could be. Sonora City was nothing less than a warzone.

Josué glanced at Felisa. _Can we trust him?_ he heard in his head.

_What other choice do we have?_ he asked back.

Felisa studied Germán.

Josué turned to the man. There was something about his eyes that set him at ease. "We'd be happy to join you, but I'm only here to find my grandfather. We'll leave after that."

"I think we can help you with that." Germán set the now empty glass of ale firmly on the table. The big man signaled one of the others in the room then stood up. "Verdi will return your battle viper to you outside. They are a commodity around here. You're lucky we found it and _you_ first. Someone less favorable to your cause might have left you in more dire circumstances." Germán grinned.

They got up and followed the man out of the restaurant. Josué tried not to stare when he saw the red burn mark on the floor by the exit.

Out in the street he was surprised to find at least ten more of Germán's men. One of them flew up on Dominicci's viper and handed him the bike. He and Felisa mounted it and waited until Germán flew beside them. "Follow me. The others will meet up with us later."

Josué revved the engine and zoomed after the large man. In the half-dark, the maze of buildings seemed more peaceful. Shadows hid blast marks and bomb craters. Pale reflections of their ghost-white shirts bent over viper handlebars rippled silently across shop windows.

_Do you really think we can trust him?_ Josué heard Felisa ask.

_I don't know. There is something familiar about him. I have a good feeling about this._ Josué looked ahead of them and hoped he was right. At least the man had made sure there was a fair fight.

Germán turned down an alley and into a row of warehouses. At the corner he disappeared into a large bay and parked his viper in front of a loading dock. Josué parked next to him.

The big man led them onto the dock and through a door in the center of the raised concrete platform. They stepped down rickety metal stairs. Dirty-white tile covered the stairway walls. Round metallic lamps hung from the ceiling on what looked like wire power cords. A single bulb burned in the center of each. Josué wondered how old this place was. _Lamps like these must be from the earliest days._

Felisa shrugged her shoulders. _They look new to me._

Above the lamps, the ceiling disappeared into a black matrix of metallic beams and cobwebs. A cool breeze wafted from the tunnel below. With it came the smell of engine grease and shoe polish.

Germán led Josué and Felisa to a metal cage. It was in the middle of the tunnel under an oasis of lights. A circle of men played cards under its glow. One of them sat with his feet on a desk looking at a series of monitors and eating a banana. They all wore leather pants and white T's.

Germán led them through the cage. He slapped a man on the arm and opened the door at the back, gesturing for Josué and Felisa to follow him.

Beyond it was a narrow hallway with white plastered walls. A green carpeted break room opened to their left. Two more of Germán's men slouched in couches there. A holo-wall played a news report in three dimensions.

Germán led Josué and Felisa to a small office beyond the break room and squeezed past a desk too big for the room. Germán motioned for Josué to shut the door. "So you want to see your grandfather?"

Nodding, Josué leaned against the wall, careful not to upset the photos of the Sonoran jungle hanging behind him.

The big man landed with a sigh in an old swivel chair. Josué was surprised the chair didn't topple under his weight. On the desk was an old computer terminal; at least that's what Josué thought it was. He had learned about original settler equipment in school, though he'd never used any.

The big man turned the monitor toward Josué and typed on what was assumed to be a keyboard. "How much do you know about Sonora City?"

"Very little," Josué replied.

"You'll find out more than you may care to, soon enough. But for now . . ." He typed a few more keys. "Take a look . . . at this." Germán pushed the monitor a little further toward Josué.

Josué leaned forward. There, on the video screen sitting behind a desk, was the unmistakable figure of his grandfather, Hernan Trevino.

Chapter 7, Hernan

Josué squinted as he tried to pick out every detail of the room on the tiny screen. It didn't look like any ordinary jail he'd ever seen before. Plush carpet covered the suite floors; elegant wood paneling hung on the walls. In the corner of the screen lay a manor-sized bed and strength equipment.

His grandfather's shoulders bent over a large cherry desk. Shelves of books lined a matching library behind him. Long wisps of white hair shook as he turned a page in his book.

"We've installed a communication system here to keep in touch. When I press this, he can hear and see us." Germán clicked a key on the keypad and cleared his throat.

"Master Trevino." Germán spoke in a low voice.

The wiry man put his book down and swung his chair around. He checked the door then looked up with an expectant air. When his eyes met the camera, he gave a start. "Josué! You found him, Germán. Good job."

Josué noticed Germán visibly relax. "We found him at the tavern." Germán half-smiled at Josué. "Jaco ran into him, so to speak. But that's another story."

"Excellent." Hernan leaned toward the camera, checked the door again and spoke in a low voice. "Listen, this isn't a good time. Bring him by in the morning. You know the way."

Germán nodded.

"Good, I'll see you a couple hours before inspection." Hernan winked. "We'll talk tomorrow, Josué."

The screen went blank. Josué's cheeks ached from the smile pasted on them. He ran his fingers through his hair, surprised to find they trembled. Then a thought struck him and his blood ran cold, how had his grandfather known he was still alive?

Felisa caught his eye, concern showed on her face. _What's the matter?_

Josué shrugged his shoulders and looked at Germán who was now herding them into the hallway. "Come on, I'll show you the rest of the place. It looks like you'll be here. At least for the night."

Following Felisa, Josué tried to push the confusing thoughts from his mind. At least he would see his grandfather tomorrow. He could ask anything then.

In the bunk room, the mattresses looked plush. Of course a carpeted floor would look better than the wooden boxes they'd slept on for the past two months.

Germán stopped in front of a stripped down cot. "This one's yours, Josué. Ask the others where to find the linens." He indicated a door at the side of the room. "Felisa, since you're the only woman in our cell, you get the guest room."

Josué eyed the door, unsure how he felt about her being so far away. "Cell?" he asked to distract from the look on his face.

"We're a Syndicate Cell. Your grandfather has the organization divided into groups stationed throughout the City." Germán led them into the hallway. "There are five cells and two operating bases where we coordinate and plan shuttle flights. Smuggling is the backbone of the Syndicate – space flight is the backbone of smuggling. You'll learn as you go."

Germán led them to what looked like Héctor's weapons room. A tall man with long grey hair, dressed in a robe met them. Placing his fist in his hand, he bowed his head. "Welcome, Young Trevino."

Josué returned the salute, bowing his head.

"I've heard of your recent victory. Only a pupil of Master Héctor could have done so well against Jaco."

Josué smiled and looked at his feet. He wondered how he really felt about his victory over Jaco. Though he hadn't killed him, the weight of the man's death hung over him.

"Héctor and Germán were cousins, you know." The tall man winked at Germán.

Josué turned to Germán. The big man lowered his eyes. The resemblance was clear in the jaw and eyes, though Germán was much bigger than Héctor. Perhaps the relation explained the instant trust Josué had felt.

"If I hadn't seen him fight, I might not have believed who he was." Germán folded his hands behind his back. "He's a credit to his master, may he rest in peace."

Josué looked at his feet and hoped his master _was_ in peace.

Germán pointed to the back wall. "Marko helps us keep fit and teaches us how to use the new weapons."

Felisa crossed the room and picked up a broad sword, testing its balance in her hand.

"Looks like you might have a new student, Marko." Germán grinned as she swung the sword in a perfect arc.

***

The next morning Josué awoke to a large shadow at the side of his bed.

"Better get up," a deep voice said.

Josué threw his feet over the side of his bunk.

"We've got to get there before inspections. Follow me." Germán's back led the way to the door.

Although he wanted to check on Felisa, he thought it would be better not to wake her. She'll be fine, he told himself and would probably find the extra sleep a luxury.

He fell in behind Germán in their hasty walk back to the warehouse. "You better use a different viper." Germán pointed to one at the end. "A battle viper is sure to attract the wrong kind of attention where we're going."

Josué mounted one that looked similar to what he'd owned at the manor and kicked it into action. The purr of the engine felt like a leather coat around his shoulders.

Outside of the warehouse, the cool damp air energized him. Germán retraced their way through the streets to the restaurant near the jail and parked out in front.

"This way." Germán stepped inside and led the way through the kitchen doors.

Josué's eyes scanned the room. There was no sign of Alberto. They went to the back of the kitchen, down a staircase and into a short hallway. At the other end was a wood-paneled door with a small frosted window. Germán opened the heavy door. Mist tumbled out around their legs. Inside, food lined shelf after shelf.

Before Josué had time to feel the cold, the big man stepped to the back and moved a lever. One of the shelves swung aside to reveal a passage carved into the rock wall.

"This goes under the jail and comes up in the middle along a ventilator shaft." Germán stepped into the dark pathway then turned. "Keep as quiet as you can. It isn't sound-proof," he added in a hoarse whisper.

Jagged black rocks made forbidding shadows against the vent light more than a hundred yards ahead. Josué crouched into the tunnel. He felt bad for Germán, who walked almost doubled over in front of him.

Finally, they came to a ladder that disappeared above them into a metal shaft.

Josué climbed as quietly as he could, counting five branching shafts before Germán stepped across and into one of them.

They walked sideways down a short passage then Germán stopped and tapped out a distinct pattern on the wall with his knuckles.

A panel slid open. Hernan's tall, thin frame greeted them. His piercing eyes met Josué's. A smile lined his face as he stepped aside. "Welcome, Josué, Germán. Please come in."

Josué stepped into the room and into his grandfather's trembling embrace. The smell of his shirt was a mixture of starch and Trevino aftershave, just like what his father used to wear. He blinked at the memory.

His grandfather cleared his throat. "It's good to see you safe, my boy." His grandfather's voice wavered. "I'm glad you found Germán. There's not a better person you could have run into in the entire city."

Josué smiled and thought of Jaco. He wondered how his grandfather would have felt about _that_ encounter.

Hernan swept his arm around the room. "Now you see where I operate the Syndicate." Hernan stepped to his desk, taking his seat in a large, leather swivel chair. "As you can see, it practically runs itself with men like Germán." He waved the two of them into seats opposite his desk.

"So tell me Josué, what was it like to be a slave at Omri Manor?" His grandfather chuckled and looked down at his hands.

Josué felt his face go blank, unable to think of what to say.

"Yes . . . yes, I knew you had survived the raid and where you were. Ormand knew as well. I was just glad you were _safe_. Ormand _assured_ us you _would_ be safe – though you can only trust what he says so much." Hernan pressed the tips of his fingers together, setting them to rest against his lower lip.

Josué swallowed. "I'm glad to be away from there."

"Of course you are. And it was good you came here, though you may find in some ways, you were better off – where you were. If you haven't already seen, you will. Sonora City is dangerous. A warzone in its own right. Germán will have more trouble keeping you alive than Ormand did." Hernan looked at Germán. "I trust that will work out? It will be good exposure for the boy."

Germán nodded. "Anyone who can fight like he does will be a help."

Hernan paused. "Josué, I want you to keep an open mind while you are in Germán's cell. He's an excellent leader, one of our best."

His grandfather sighed and shifted in his seat. "Your father . . . er, had his opinions . . . I hesitate to say it, but things could have been different. If Porfirio had been more ready to count the profits from the Syndicate . . . but that is neither here nor there." His grandfather looked at him as though searching.

Josué forced a smile. He _would_ keep an open mind, he told himself.

Hernan cleared his throat. "You'll see. The Trevino Family will rise again. We'll let Ormand have his fun with Apolino and the Revisionist Party, but it won't go far. They use each other and will eventually destroy one another. That's when you and I step in." His grandfather smiled, though his smile looked tired.

"We control the Syndicate, as you know. The Syndicate controls the shipping routes, and when the Revisionist Party brings the interstellar fleet to this planet on rotation, we'll control that as well – Apolino be damned." Hernan crossed his arms and leaned back.

Josué looked at Germán. The man wore a smile too. The names his grandfather rattled off sounded like a foreign language. What was a Revisionist Party? Who was Apolino?

Josué wondered if any of it really mattered. One thing was becoming clear, he still had a Family and a place to learn something new.

Germán looked down at his shoes with an expression Josué recognized. It was the same look Héctor used to use when Josué's father would talk about visions and plans.

"I'll be glad to learn all I can from Germán," Josué found himself saying.

Chapter 8, Sicario

Stu shoved his hands in his pockets and looked away from the dark-haired, long-featured Atlantos. He furrowed his brow and cursed under his breath. He wasn't cold. Why was he trembling? He hoped it was slight enough to escape the eagle eyes of Atlantos.

Returning his attention to the photos, he wiped all emotion from his face like his brother Lenny had done so well. Why these two? They're just ordinary people. Stu stopped himself. Thankfully, the trembling had moved to the small of his back where it could go unnoticed.

Stu wondered if he was starting to go soft. He ran his fingers through his hair. But who wouldn't balk at a hit on a kid?

"The old man is in Sonora City Jail – fifth floor. Political prisoner. Melanion has passes for you. The boy is in Germán's Cell . . . according to our informants."

Stu looked up. The name Germán brought the steel back to his arms. He took a relaxed hand out of his pocket and lifted the picture of the boy for a closer look. Sorry, kid. Anyone associated with Germán . . . .

Atlantos continued, "They are high-profile targets. You'll each receive double for the hit and four times the regular compensation if you get them both within 48 hours."

If Stu had had any reservations left, the money would have spoken for them. His foot began to tap. "48 hours?" Stu put the photo in his pocket _._ "We'll do it."

Stu glanced at Lenny and smiled. This job had their names written all over it. "Is that all?"

"Melanion's downstairs." Atlantos' piercing eyes studied him a moment. "Don't screw it up."

Stu nodded and squinted at Atlantos. "Do I detect doubt? Have we failed you yet?"

"I _mean_ it. Get the job done." Atlantos sat down.

Stu bristled, but turned to the doorway. Atlantos was Atlantos. Nobody messed with Atlantos. "We're on it," was all he said. He could smell the money already.

Stu wondered if he would settle down after this one, maybe find a wife? Nah, he decided. Lenny should settle down, though. He'd make sure of that. The sicario life really wasn't for his brother _._ He looked at Lenny out of the corner of his eye and wondered if his brother had fully recovered from their last hit.

_Germán_. His skin crawled at the very name. Germán, the man who had killed their brother Felipé. Stu couldn't think of Germán without a sour taste in his mouth. They would manage collateral damage on this job.

On the stairway, Lenny caught up to him. "How are we going to kill a kid?" He whispered, removing the mask he'd worn so well in Atlantos' presence. "The woman was bad enough."

"Didn't you hear?" Stu mouthed the name _Germán_. "This job was picked for us. We can do it."

"Yeah, but he's just a kid."

Stu paused on the steps. "We'll use explosives. We'll wipe out the whole cell. It won't be the kid, it will be Germán."

Lenny continued down the stairway step by step. Stu didn't wait. He was in Melanion's office before Lenny reached the bottom.

"You've got some things for us, boss?"

Melanion stood up from his desk, walked over to a chair piled high with utility belts and grabbed a box off the top. "Here you go. Uniforms, badges and a map of the prison." The methodical man lifted them one by one and dropped them back into the box. "The chief guard works for us. You shouldn't have any trouble getting in. Make it quick and clean."

Stu carried the box over to a shelf of explosives. He threw in a few bricks of plastic and a detonator. He lifted it to check its weight then added more plastic.

"Why is Atlantos so dramatic about these things?" Stu asked. "I liked how you used to do it. It seemed less . . . I don't know – personal."

Melanion sat on the corner of his desk and folded his arms. "You guys have moved to the big leagues. Atlantos is in charge of the _high_ -profile hits." Stu detected a glint in Melanion's eyes.

"I'm just saying I liked the way you did it." Stu picked up the box and headed for the door.

"If you aren't moving up, you aren't moving," Melanion replied, a grin spreading across his face. "From what I understand, you've got an important job."

Stu wasn't convinced. He wished Melanion would move up with them.

***

Less than forty-five minutes later, Stu watched the boy through his binoculars.

"Do you see anything?" Lenny asked over the radio.

"It's the kid," Stu whispered over their link. "He's flying into the hideout." Then he added through clenched teeth, "Germán is with him." Stu fingered the trigger on his blaster. "How are things in there?" He swung the binoculars to scan the warehouse roof, unable to spot Lenny.

"I'm almost done. You grabbed enough plastics to take down the whole city block," Lenny grunted.

"You can never be too sure."

Stu thought over how it would happen. It seemed like robbery to get paid for a hit like this. They would be done with the first target in less than an hour. "Did you leave us a way in? We'll need to verify the kill."

Lenny cursed.

"What? Don't tell me you forgot?"

"Give me twenty minutes. You'll be able to fly in."

"Good. It'll be one picture I want a copy of – Germán's corpse."

A little longer than twenty minutes later, according to Stu's watch, Lenny's voice woke his brother from a daydream of a world without Germán. "Ok, looks like we're set. Give the go and we'll see what kind of plastics Melanion has."

"All clear?"

"All clear." Lenny's voice caught.

Stu would definitely have to get his brother out of the business after this hit. These kinds of pauses and mistakes would cost them someday. "Okay, here goes." Stu pressed the detonator and felt a low rumble shake the ground.

A cloud of smoke billowed from the walls and roof. The warehouse doors flew across the street. A gigantic crater opened inside the building. The metal frame of the structure wavered like a house of cards, sighed then leaned against the adjacent building.

Chapter 9, Lenny

Josué watched Germán's feet on his way back through the tunnel to the restaurant. His grandfather's words echoed around him in the small space below the jail. Nothing made sense. How could their family 'rise again' without his father? Who was Apolino? _And_ why would Galactic Parliament work with someone like _Ormand_?

Back on the streets, Germán thankfully still hadn't said a word. They started their vipers and roared back to the warehouse.

Josué trailed the big man and tried not to think. The biggest questions of all wouldn't let him go – how could Sonora City be more dangerous than the Omri Manor slave camp? Maybe his grandfather really had no idea how bad it had been there.

Josué looked at Héctor's cousin. He sensed he could learn a lot from this man. He would stay with Germán. Perhaps things would become clearer, and it may not even take that long.

He closed his eyes. A vision of the woman from the jungle filled his mind. She blinked. Danger glimmered in her eyes.

Josué looked around. They were in the warehouse bay. He followed Germán down the steps and into the tunnel. The hair on the back of his neck stood on end.

"Where's Felisa?"

"She mentioned she would be with Marko this morning." Germán opened the door to the cage.

"I'm going to find her."

"Good. I'll go with you. I could use a sparring session."

"No." Josué stopped. The skin on his arms tingled. He closed his eyes and imagined he saw a man. "There is someone here . . . someone placing explosives on that wall." Josué pointed back toward the stairs. "Germán, you have to get your men out of here! I'll get Felisa." Josué turned and ran to Marko's training room.

Halfway there, he slowed to a walk. What he had just said? What he had seen? Rubbing his eyes, he wondered if he was losing his mind. Perhaps the pressure was getting to him.

He heard Marko give an instruction on sword swings as he rounded the corner. The man was hanging a sword on the back rack when Josué stepped into the room. He cleared his throat. Marko turned around just as a red light on the ceiling started to blink.

The trainer's face turned grave. "Josué, Felisa, Follow me! We've got to get down the tunnel as quickly as we can."

"Why? What is it?" Felisa asked.

"The emergency signal. We must evacuate!"

_What is it?_ Felisa echoed her question to Josué.

_I don't know._ Josué was unable to put into words the urgency he'd felt earlier. Perhaps he _had_ been right.

Felisa led them out of the training room and into the dimly-lit tunnel. Marko secured the door after Josué. The oasis of light from the cage was a familiar beacon to their left. A large group of cell members passed in front of them, moving swiftly down the corridor. Josué ran to catch up with Germán at their lead.

"You were right," the big man whispered. "They cut into our surveillance system. Paco figured out how. Keep moving."

Germán pushed on and the group broke into a run. Felisa caught up to him. They ran together. He hadn't been crazy after all.

Ahead, the tunnel branched to their right. As they rounded the corner, a deafening roar washed over them. A body pushed into Josué from behind. He fell forward. The wall beside him buckled like a giant fist had punched it from the other side. A boulder crashed into the ground inches from his head. Rock and sand poured down his shirt.

The large silhouette of Germán rose over the wreckage. "Is everyone alright?" The big man bent over a body next to Josué. A weak groan escaped the man's lips.

Josué reached for Felisa. Her eyes met his. Germán stepped past him. Josué almost got up to follow him then turned to Felisa.

_Go with Germán_. Felisa pushed his hand. _I'm alright._

Josué stood up and scrambled after his new mentor. It was slow going over the rubble, but the big man moved like a lightning over the rocks and boulders.

When they reached the place where the stairway should have been, a hole the size of a house gaped. Grey daylight streamed through billowing dust. Josué only recognized a small corner of the flattened metal cage peeking from beneath a large chunk of rock. The rest was a shamble of twisted concrete and boulders.

The high pitched whine of a viper in low gear hissed toward them from street level. The gray shadow of a thin figure atop a hover-bike appeared at the hole, descending through the wreckage. The white-hot engine burned through the haze.

Germán crouched like a raptor before launching himself at the figure. He landed square on the rider's chest. Two bodies tumbled to the ground. The big man's fist rose then fell. Josué watched his friend raise a large rock over his head. With trembling arms he brought it down on the viper-rider. The man's legs kicked then fell still.

Germán's chest heaved. He looked around, leaned back and shouted into the wreckage. "Lenny! I know you're out there. I'm coming for you! Do you hear me, Lenny? You are a dead man – like your two brothers!"

The big man walked back in determined silence. "Sicario," was all he said when he reached the other Syndicate members.

Felisa turned to Josué. _Is everything alright?_

Josué nodded, afraid to say anything. Germán was on a mission, he could sense it.

Four Cell members lay covered with coats and shirts in the tunnel wreckage. Several others sat with their backs to a wall; dark bandages tied on or clutched over wounds.

Germán caught his breath before turning to Marko. "Get these people to Dr. Pepe then Garvin's. Josué and I will meet you there tonight. We have something to do."

Marko nodded and turned to help Felisa place another bandage.

Josué touched Felisa's shoulder as he passed. He felt her squeeze his hand.

Germán was off. Josué followed. They came to a tunnel, passed through it and out onto the streets. Josué could taste the vengeance emanating from his friend.

"How did you do that down there?" Germán asked after they had walked in silence through two or three alleys.

"I saw the man in my mind."

They entered a building and raced down steps to a well-lit tunnel.

Germán stopped in front of a pair of doors with the words 'FIRE EXIT' across them. "Can you do it again?"

Josué didn't want to disappoint his friend. He closed his eyes and hoped. With no idea how the _link_ was supposed to work, he squeezed his eyes. First there was nothing then he _did_ see something. "I see a man . . . running . . . in a street. He's ducking between two large buildings. He's walking now."

"Can you recognize the buildings?"

Josué opened his eyes. "No . . . they looked like apartment buildings." He closed his eyes again. "One of them has green balconies on the side facing the street."

"Excellent." Germán burst through the door.

In the alleyway before them stood the man Josué had seen. He stopped, turned and broke into a run before ducking into a doorway. Germán tore after him faster than Josué would have thought possible for the man's bulk.

The big man reached the door and kicked it open. Josué caught up to him in front of a flight of dingy wooden stairs.

Germán threw himself back, catching Josué by the arm. The heat of a laze blast burned past Josué's leg, scorching the street beside him.

From his belt, Germán pulled a blaster and returned fire. Two shots later the man tumbled down the stairway. Germán kicked the body over and breathed a sigh.

"Who is it?" Josué looked at the kind, almost peaceful face of the man at their feet.

"Sicario. Ormand's death squad." Germán sat down hard with his back against the brick wall. "They were sent to kill you – and me for helping you."

Chapter 10, Micromanagement

Mr. Ciro couldn't find a comfortable way to sit in his chair. He had dreaded this day ever since Apolino had asked for a report on Sonora IV. Now Parliament wanted to hear it and he knew how Apolino wanted it to go. Mr. Ciro straightened his tie and breathed into his hand to check his breath. It was fresh enough, not that it would matter. If only he had had time to . . . use the facilities.

"Since we're discussing the spiraling conditions of Sonora IV politics." Apolino pressed the tips of his fingers together. "Mr. Ciro, why don't you detail for the council your findings on Sonora City?" Apolino smiled at the men and women seated around the council table. "I trust you will find his testimony highly pertinent to the issues at hand."

Mr. Ciro stood, hoping his knees would stop trembling or that no one would notice them if they didn't. "You'll find a complete description of my talking points in the report submitted to the council earlier this week." Mr. Ciro managed a smile. "Our Parliamentary Leader's assertions are correct. The Sonoran civilization has descended into a lawless class struggle." Mr. Ciro cleared his throat and tried to control the pitch of his voice. "Assassinations, indiscriminate bombings and death squads are just a few signs of the state on Sonora IV. I've included 3D photos and hologram feeds from the local news and a single, dangerous walk I risked on the streets of their city." Mr. Ciro wiped the moisture from his palms onto his pants. One more point and he could sit down.

He flipped an image onto the briefing wall. A gasp went around the room. A mutilated body from a local newsreel showed in all its uncensored gore. "As you can see, killing isn't enough for the Sonoran death squads. Bodies are mutilated in horrific ways. Signs of torture, 'signature' cuts and in some cases surgical procedures are performed to desecrate the dead. These methods strike fear into enemies and identify kills."

He selected a recording he'd made from his hotel room. It sounded as if a battle had started inside the conference room. Bomb blasts and laser shots echoed around them. "The night I stayed in Sonora City I lost count of the explosions and laser blasts I heard. It is a low-intensity war by anyone's classification."

Mr. Ciro took his seat and glanced at his benefactor. Apolino's smile creased his eyes before he leaned forward and spoke. "Over the past week, this year's death toll has reached 50,000 – to include the brutal slaughter of the Trevino Household."

Mr. Ciro watched those around the table. Nods of affirmation and grim agreement passed from face to face. "The facts speak for themselves." Mr. Apolino sat back in his chair.

"What are you proposing?" Minister of Defense looked directly at Mr. Apolino.

"I wouldn't think anything more than a small peacekeeping force would be necessary – led by the Revisionist Party's elite guard, of course." Apolino sat back and tapped his fingers together. "We'd risk _our_ troops first . . . any of the colonies will be free to contribute their men if they'd like."

Mr. Ciro was sure Apolino didn't mean that last point. From what he understood, his boss wanted to lead and run this one, without _any_ interference.

"I'd like this to be a minimum cost to the colonies with maximum benefit to humanity." Mr. Apolino said the word _humanity_ with the humblest of expressions and folded his hands on the table.

Everyone nodded their approval. The proposal passed without a single dissenting vote. Mr. Ciro knew his boss would be pleased. The presence of their personal guard would solidify Revisionist control over the renegade planet and pave the way for a full annexation of its abundant natural resources. Peace on Sonora IV would be a crowning achievement for Mr. Apolino in more ways than one.

Within the week, Mr. Ciro found himself back at Omri Manor. He'd anticipated a wait in the furnace room and had dressed appropriately. His short sleeves and thin linen slacks were anything but adequate for the meat-locker they placed him in this time. Mr. Ciro could not stop his teeth from chattering or feel his blue fingertips by the time Atlantos arrived.

The tall, lanky man led him up a level and down a hallway to a small one-room gymnasium. He had almost stopped shivering by the time he stood in front of Ormand.

Ormand knelt with one knee on a bench, lifting what looked like a ten-pound weight to his hip. The man's bulging sides hung out of a stretched tank-top. Pale, hairy legs protruded from a pair of shorts before long white socks with two red stripes at the top took over from the knees down.

"Mr. Ciro." Ormand smiled and wiped the sweat from his face with a towel draped over his shoulder. "Welcome. How is my good friend, _Mr_. Apolino?"

Mr. Ciro smiled. He had expected an entirely different tone to this reception. Surely Ormand had heard of Apolino's plans for the Elite Guard? "Mr. Apolino sends his regards and hopes he finds you in good health."

"Good. I should pay him a visit one of these days." Ormand returned his attention to his arm and the weight.

Mr. Ciro fidgeted, wondering if he should give Ormand the message now, or wait for a better time. He decided to get it over with. Putting his hands in his pockets, he cleared his throat. "Um – I'm here to let you know – uh – Mr. Apolino will be sending a small contingent – er – peace force. That is – um – to help you keep the peace. . . ." Mr. Ciro rocked back on his heels and considered what he had just said. Perhaps his message hadn't come out quite clearly. He decided to give it another try. "That is to say, he's sending a company of Revisionist Guards to help with the situation in Sonora City." Mr. Ciro smiled to himself. What could be plainer?

Ormand smiled too. There was almost a light air about the man as he paused in his workout. "Yes, I heard about that."

Mr. Ciro relaxed. This would be more painless than he'd anticipated.

"I also heard about your reports to the council. Dead bodies in the street, sicario and all that. He-he, you're quite a writer." Ormand looked up and into Mr. Ciro's eyes. The ten-pound weight continued its rise and fall.

Mr. Ciro almost detected a threat behind those eyes, but the chill starting down his spine was halted by the return of Ormand's warm smile. "Anything else from Mr. Apolino?"

Mr. Ciro swallowed. He'd almost forgotten to ask about the Trevinos. Mr. Apolino wanted a full report. "Uh, yes. One more thing, Mr. Apolino would like to know about your progress with the grandfather and the boy?"

Ormand kept his eyes averted. "I'll let Atlantos fill you in on that one." Ormand grunted without looking up. "It was nice seeing you again."

Mr. Ciro felt his dismissal. It had gone smooth enough, more than he could have asked for, anyway.

Atlantos spun on his heels and started back the way they had come. Mr. Ciro followed, hoping the man would give his report before they parted. Atlantos led him to the back door where Mr. Ciro saw his lorry waiting in the green courtyard. Atlantos turned and left, without a word.

Standing on the doorstep, he wondered if demanding the status promised to him by Ormand was appropriate. Then he thought better of it. He boarded the lorry and looked back at the manor, surprised to see Ormand standing at the gymnasium window, watching him.

Mr. Ciro smiled and waved. Ormand didn't move or change the eager expression he wore under his dark eyebrows.

Beyond the manor walls, Mr. Ciro noticed a large mound of dirt to his left. A worker with a shovel waved the lorry to a stop and leaned into the window.

"Are you Mr. Ciro?"

"Yes I am." Mr. Ciro felt lighthearted at his 'escape' from the manor. He planned to catch an early ship back to Toreón and wondered how soon it left. Not that he had anything to do on Toreón, Sonora IV just made him feel continually out of sorts – too much jungle.

"Master Omri hoped you could proofread this writing, here." The workman pointed to a granite stone.

Curiosity got the better of the executive assistant. "Has Ormand bragged about my writing ability?" He climbed out of the lorry and followed the worker to the large grey rock at the head of an open ditch. "Well, to be honest, I'm really only an amateur editor." Mr. Ciro chuckled. He bent over to read the engraved letters with a slight squint.

"Right here." The man pointed.

Mr. Ciro read, "Dedicated to the tireless efforts of our family Parliamentary Agent and his career." He was almost touched until he read the last line, "May he rest in peace, Rufus A. Ciro."

For some reason the words just didn't sink in. Rufus barely noticed the shovel as it crashed across his head. He fell into the grave unconscious. He couldn't feel the 24 cubic feet of Sonora IV soil crush him to death shovel-full by shovel-full.

Chapter 11, Invasion

Josué dreamed, or at least it felt like a dream. He knew his body slept somewhere in Garvin's bunkroom down in Sonora City, but from where he stood he could see stars, and stars like he had never seen in the city. A stiff breeze blew against his back, lifting him.

Something rustled to his right. Elder John from the native village stood in the air beside him, his blue robe flowing around his legs.

Josué smiled at the Elder then turned back to the sky. Elder John's hand reached up, pointing to a pinpoint perched at the Galaxy's edge. "Your father's fathers came from that star."

Josué squinted. _Small_ was the word that came to mind, a mere blink among the others. He wondered if he would be able to find it the next time he looked.

"There were sacred sands there, long ago." Sorrow echoed in the Elder's voice.

"What happened to them?"

"The people expanded, the sands were divided. Factions formed."

"Did the sands die?" Josué asked.

"In some parts they died. In others – worse things happened. They vied for control over the minds of the people."

Josué glanced at the Elder's grave face. "Will that happen here?"

Elder John turned. Their eyes met. "The Omri Family has already brought warring factions to Sonora IV. The situation in the city is an example of what is to come." The man looked determined as he stared at the stars again. "The future of our planet depends on you, Josué."

"You mean – on me and my generation?"

"I mean on you and other elders like you."

Josué looked at him out of the corner of his eye. Elder John couldn't mean Josué was an elder, could he?

"Yes, the sacred sands have chosen you, Josué. You have been given the anointing of an elder."

"I am an elder, then?" The sound of his own voice startled him awake.

Josué closed his eyes, willing himself back to sleep. He wanted to ask more questions, hear more about the sacred sands. He needed to find out what it meant to be an elder. What was he supposed to do? How could the future of Sonora IV depend on him?

He sat up.

In the darkness, the soft snores of the other cell members rumbled around him – Garvin's _and_ Germán's men. Garvin's cell had been as large as Germán's, but in a smaller building. They had had to pack it in. Every bunk was full, and those on watch waited for the next free bed.

Scratching his head, he gave in to the fact that he was awake and wouldn't likely get back to sleep. Sitting on the edge of his bunk, he considered. It would be better to relieve someone than to waste a good mattress.

He put his boots on and walked into the brightness of the hallway. Passing the women's quarters, he almost collided with Felisa.

"Hi. Can't sleep, either?"

She shook her head, eyes squinting into the bright light.

"I'm going to take a watch, want to come?"

_Sure_. She smiled and put her hand in his. It was warm.

Even after his vivid dream of Elder John, he had forgotten to use the link. He wondered if he should tell her about the dream, but then wondered what he would say.

They climbed the stairs in silence. On the roof they found a pair of guards who gladly gave up their post. Just like that, Josué and Felisa were alone – something that hadn't happened since they'd entered the city.

He looked up at the night sky, trying to remember more about his dream. "Which star did the settlers come from?"

She took his finger and pointed it to a low one on the horizon. _There_. Her hand felt smooth and soft.

He focused on the star. It was yellow, like he remembered from his dream. He shook his head. "It seems so insignificant – hard to believe."

"Hard to believe what?"

But Josué didn't know. His ancestors had come from that star, small though it was.

He shrugged and breathed the night air. It carried her scent, reminding him of their time in the jungle. Her hair hung around her shoulders, reflecting the silvery light.

Walking to the edge of the building, he looked out onto the street. The lamp-lit concrete was silent. The incessant war on the streets seemed to have taken a momentary pause.

"Do you feel like something is about to happen?"

Her shoulder brushed against his. One of her curls tickled his forearm. Out of the corner of his eye he couldn't help but noticed her bottom lip. It looked so round and soft. Her skin felt cool against his. He didn't wait for an answer, but eased onto his elbow, turned to her and kissed her full on the lips.

A lifetime passed in that moment. Every detail etched its way into his memory . . . the tickle of her breath . . . the smoothness of her arms . . . the motion of her mouth.

A noise like dull thunder broke into the night, rumbling inside his chest before giving way to a deafening roar. Josué looked up. The white tail of a massive star cruiser passed over them. He squinted at the passing bulk. Hot wind blew against his face. One second it was there, the next it had disappeared over the mountains. Then lights, dust and engine noise erupted, outlining the entire north ridge.

_What was that?_ Felisa asked, her eyes searching his.

"Whatever it was, it just landed." Josué turned to the mountains, but they were quiet, as if nothing had happened. _We better get down and let Germán and Garvin know_.

When they reached the watch center, it was alive with activity. The two cell leaders leaned over a terminal.

"Are you sure that's what it was?" Garvin demanded.

"I'll replay it for you." The technician typed a few keys then sat back. "See, you can make out the bay door here. And, there is the official crest of the Parliamentary Guard."

Garvin stood up, holding his chin.

"Have you heard anything from our guys on Toreón?" Germán asked.

Garvin bit his thumb, staring at the image of the bay door. "Nothing."

Josué took a step back. _The cell's been alerted._ _We better get back to our post before they notice it vacant_.

Felisa grabbed his hand and they made their way back to the roof.

Several hours later, staring into the morning sun, Josué held Felisa, their arms intertwined as they watched a column of galactic troops in full battle-tech gear glide over the mountain ridge. Nine-foot exoskeletons held larger-than-life blaster cannons across armored chests. The high-pitched noise of compressed hydraulics gradually surrounded the city. Josué looked into Felisa's frightened eyes and wished they were back in the jungle.

Chapter 12, The Jail

In watch center, Josué sat down to wait. Germán and Garvin leaned over a three-dimensional image of the city. Garvin was speaking. " . . . We aren't even sure if they _will_ attack, or whose side they will be on," he stated matter-of-factly.

Germán cleared his throat. "They'll be on Ormand's side. You can be sure of that."

"They'll be on their _own_ side, at least according to the old man," Garvin corrected.

"But they'll attack _us_ first. We're weaker. They've got to get us out of the way before they can work on Ormand's group." Germán glanced up. "Josué. Your grandfather wants you to stop by the jail. Do you remember how to get there?"

He nodded, silently wondering if the two cell leaders were right about the Syndicate being weaker. He'd been told it was the strongest force in the Galaxy.

"Great. Find us when you're finished."

Josué ran down the stairs, wondering if he should tell Felisa where he was going. She was on her way to her room when they parted and was probably asleep by now. He decided he'd better get to his grandfathers as soon as he could.

Jumping on Jaco's viper in the basement of the apartment building, he kick-started it. "Spoils of war," Germán had said the day he tossed him the keys to him. "Besides, Jaco won't be using it anymore."

The morning streets of Sonora City were vacant. The sun's rays angled between the buildings painting zebra patterns of light against his eyelids.

At the traffic light, he slowed to a stop before realizing he was the only one on the street. Two intersections later he stopped obeying traffic signals and gunned his engine to the restaurant. The whine of his viper echoed off the buildings, the only sound to be heard. Tension hung around him like heat-lightning.

The jail walls rose over him, casting a cool, grey shadow. He parked below the sign of the woman eating grapes. Her alluring smile still played on her lips in spite of the danger infiltrating the city.

Josué ran through the doors and into the kitchen. "Alberto," he called, but there was no answer. He raced down the stairway and into the giant refrigerator. Finding the lever, he opened the passageway between buildings.

The unfinished rock walls were rough against his fingers as he made his way to the ladder. He remembered to move as quietly as possible.

Before he could lift his hand to tap out the secret pattern, the metal door slid open. Hernan's anxious eyes met his.

His grandfather's wrinkled clothes hung around his wiry frame. Grey wisps of hair stood out at straight angles. "Come in, come in," his grandfather said in a low voice.

Josué was surprised at the look of uncertainty etched into the elder man's face. The jail cell had a stale, hospital-like scent to it.

Trembling fingers passed through Hernan's silver hair. He stepped over to the desk, gesturing to the chair opposite him. "We haven't much time, Josué. Sit down, please."

Josué obeyed; a little bewildered by his grandfather's apparent anxiety.

"You've seen the Galactic troops, I presume?"

He nodded

"Good. Germán said you took watch last night."

"Felisa and I were on the roof."

"Those are Apolino's men – the Galactic Parliamentary Guard. They've come here to take over."

Josué didn't know if he was supposed to be surprised by this. Hadn't his grandfather predicted it?

"First, they will move into the city." He paused. "Then they will move into the Family Manors, specifically Omri Manor."

Josué smiled. "Just like you planned. Ormand will get what's coming to him, like you said."

"Yes, but . . . ." His grandfather wiped his face. "The timing is wrong. Apolino acted faster than either Ormand or I anticipated."

Josué stiffened. How could his grandfather know what Ormand had anticipated?

"Don't look surprised, Josué. I speak with Ormand. You'll speak to him too, when you're the master of the house." Hernan placed a knee against his desk and crossed his arms.

Josué crossed his own arms and sat back. Would he _ever_ be able to speak with Ormand? Perhaps with a blaster.

"Apolino is after the Trevino wine. If he defeats us in the city, he could succeed in pushing the Syndicate out of the picture." His grandfather looked at him as if searching for the effect of his words.

Josué spoke up, "That would be bad, right?"

"The Syndicate is the lifeline of the Trevino Family. If it falls, you fall," his grandfather's jaw hardened.

Josué furrowed his brow. "You mean _we_ fall. Right?"

"My time is limited, Josué. Apolino knows where I am. He won't wait to eliminate me. I stand in his way, as do you. When I am gone, he'll be after you."

Josué leaned forward. "Don't talk like that. You'll survive this." Josué searched his grandfather's face. Something told him his grandfather was right, though he rejected the very thought of it.

Hernan smiled a thin smile. "I hope _you_ are right." He reached under his desk and produced a familiar-looking silver case and placed it on the desk between them. "There are two things I can leave you with, Josué. The first is this, Enrique's weapon."

Josué thought back to the night he fired that weapon. The look in his father's eyes had been so proud.

Hernan opened the case. Josué looked inside. Shiny pieces fit into snug, cut foam. Diagrams and schemas were folded neatly on top.

His grandfather closed the case and pushed it across the desk to Josué's eager hands. "It's important you have it. The Syndicate never got satisfactory results. You might be able to do better." His grandfather looked down at the case with a mixture of sorrow and determination.

Frowning, he placed it on the floor. He could make it work, he was sure of it.

"The only other thing I can leave you with is this piece of advice . . . ."

Josué sat back, wishing his grandfather would at least smile.

"When your father wanted to marry your mother, your grandmother – rest her soul – bitterly disagreed with the match. I on the other hand saw what your father saw, a beautiful, strong woman who came from a proud and resourceful people. I can't emphasize this enough, do _not_ be afraid to go to the native people – _your_ people, when you need their help. They may be able to pull you through what you are about to face." His grandfather sat back and pushed his chair away from the desk.

Setting both his feet on the floor, Josué blinked. He couldn't shake the feeling his grandfather was saying goodbye.

Hernan Trevino stood up, abruptly. "Very well, then. This is not a safe place for you."

"But . . . ." Josué reluctantly picked up the silver case and stood. "Can't you return with me?"

Hernan shook his head and led him back to the passageway. "I would put the Syndicate and you in jeopardy. They can track me with this." His grandfather held out his arm. A small red light blinked under the skin of his wrist. "You are all we have left. Do your best to survive. Now go." His grandfather's lanky arms enfolded him in a hug, bringing back the memory of the war council room where they'd first met – a lifetime ago.

The man pushed him out of the room and into the passageway, but not before Josué watched a tear slip down his grandfather's cheek.

The door slid shut.

Chapter 13, Disaster

Sitting on his viper, Josué looked up at the jail. The only other living member of his family was in that building. How would the Trevino name survive if his grandfather wasn't around? What if it were only up to him? Josué shook his head, deciding he simply wasn't ready _._

Pushing the viper onto the vacant street, he set it to a slow crawl. He had to figure out how he could help his grandfather. As he made it to the street corner, a whining hiss ripped through the air above him. Josué looked up in time to see a sleek silver missile, riding a long white plume, puncture the jail wall like a javelin.

Josué held his breath and counted. . . . _six . . . seven . . . eight . . . ._ He prayed it was a dud and pulled his feet up to go, but then the ground shook and a flash of red and white burst from the hole. Brick and concrete rained around him.

" _Grandfather!"_ he shouted.

Another whining hiss startled him to action. His grandfather's admonition that _he_ would be next spurred him on. He revved his engine and zipped around the corner. Two blocks passed before the ground shook a second time.

***

Smoke dimmed the sun as Josué parked in front of Garvin's old apartment complex.

At the bottom of the stairway he blinked the tears away and leaned against the railing. He slammed his fist against the dull silver metal. Damn Apolino, whoever he was.

He climbed, pausing at the bottom of each flight of stairs. At the command level, he wiped his eye and opened the door.

Germán and Garvin stood in the first apartment to the left in an old yellow kitchen. Curled linoleum and grease-stained tile outlined the makeshift war room. A long white table sat between them. On it a hologram of the city was projected.

Josué bit his lip willing himself not to cry. He stepped over nail-scared studs, stumbled to an empty chair in the corner and plopped backward. The chair rolled a few inches to bump into the wall. Clutching the silver case to his chest, he rested his chin on its handle.

". . . we'll fall back to the Southern Operations Center, here," Germán continued to Garvin in softer tones. Josué watched the hologram zoom out and pan to the south. It traced the mountain range behind the city then zoomed in on a fortified rock structure. "It will be every man for himself until we get there."

There was no answer. Josué looked up. He was startled to see they were both looking at him. "Did I interrupt?" He tried to clear whatever it was in his throat making his voice sound like he'd swallowed an avocado whole.

They just looked at him as if they wanted him to say something.

"Is he dead?" Josué asked, wiping his nose with his wrist.

Germán frowned and nodded his head. "They got him."

Looking at the grease stained yellow floor, he kicked his feet. Tears splash silently onto the silver case. He barely knew his grandfather, but he was gone now – just like his father, just like his whole house.

After a moment Garvin cleared his throat. "Miguel says he won't let any more federal ships onto Sonora IV. The one last night was disguised as a freighter."

Josué remembered the name Miguel from somewhere. He wondered why they thought he should care.

A pregnant pause filled the room.

"That should give us a fighting chance, eh, Master Trevino?" Germán asked.

Josué blinked and straightened in his chair. Had Germán just called him _Master_?

"That's right," Garvin said. "Maybe we should give you a tutorial of the Syndicate, since you – uh, are its leader now."

Josué wiped at his eyes and placed his feet on the floor.

"Your grandfather divided the Syndicate into five cells within Sonora City, _down here_ ," Garvin said. Then he squinted and pointed to the ceiling. " _Up there_ , we control a hundred of the fastest star cruisers, manned by the most feared crews in the Galaxy." A contagious smile spread across the man's face.

Josué sniffed and scooted his chair away from the wall.

"That's right," Germán added. "We could blockade an entire planet if we had to."

"That's why Ormand never pushed your grandfather _too_ far," Garvin interjected. "He knew the power of the Syndicate."

"It seems Apolino needs a lesson in that power, now. Though we have to be careful how we give it to him." Germán walked back to the table. "We don't want to risk an all-out war with the Federation."

Josué wondered if he cared about the Federation. With men like Apolino at its helm, how could it be worth anything? How had the Federation helped _this_ planet?

"That's right, but we do want to make our point and make it effectively." Garvin stood up.

Josué listened intently. His finger began to tap against the silver case. If what these men said was true, there _was_ still hope. His grandfather had tried to show him this, but Josué couldn't have seen it before now.

"What do you suggest we do?"

"Evacuate," Germán said simply.

"Germán is right. We're sitting ducks here. If Apolino wants the city, let's give it to him. Our sources say the Omri Family was just as surprised by the size of the invasion as we were. Apolino will find his hands full if he tries to move in. When night falls, we make an exit to Southern Ops. There we fortify ourselves for a standoff."

Josué nodded. It was different from what his grandfather had said, but sounded logical. They were supposed to _keep_ the city. That didn't mean they had to _stay_ _in_ the city. They might still be able to keep it, fighting from Southern Ops. They would have to try.

Josué looked down at the silver case. His grandfather had told him something else. Somewhere in the back of his mind Josué saw the yellow eyes of the native woman from the jungle. He straightened and half-stood. "There is something I have to do before I go to Southern Ops."

Germán looked at Garvin then back at Josué.

"I've got to find the native village and bring them this." Josué held up the silver case.

Germán forced a smile. "Right now?"

"It's something Grandfather _said_ I should do." Josué sniffed and stood all the way up.

"I'll go with you then," Germán said quickly.

Garvin looked at Germán, a slightly helpless expression filling his face.

"I told the old man I'd watch over him." Germán avoided Garvin's eyes.

Garvin nodded. "Right. We'll meet up at Southern Ops then – when you are finished."

The red light on the ceiling began to flash. Germán and Garvin looked at each other.

"We'll see you there then." Garvin clapped Germán's shoulder.

"Good luck to you." Germán shook Garvin's hand. The three hurried out of the room.

Josué followed Germán into the hallway and down to the bunk level. A flurry of movement filled the room. Men strapped on guns. Feet shoved their way into boots. People ran in and out. The silent pulse of the red light gave the building a fervent energy. It was as though someone had kicked over an anthill.

Felisa stepped into the room. "What now?"

"Follow me." The big man led them into the hallway. They raced down five flights of stairs and stopped at the bottom. Germán cocked his ear against the metal exit door.

The hissing whine of another missile echoed through it. "Open it!" Josué pushed on the crash bar. The door flung wide before it was taken off its hinges by a blast from the alley. Through the empty doorframe, lasers flashed in blurs of red and blue.

Germán ducked behind a large dumpster against the wall. Josué and Felisa dove after him. Josué looked up in time to see the missile penetrate Garvin's hideout. He held his breath and counted to ten before fire erupted through the windows and doorway.

Chapter 14, Escape

Laser bolts flash the length of the alley like static electricity. Josué pushed himself as far against the wall as he could, wondering how long they could stay like this before the building fell apart over them.

Germán peered around the dumpster and fired at the Galactic Warrior pinning them in the alleyway. Ten Syndicate members hid in the alley, firing from behind barricades. Red bolts of light splashed off the white armor like rain on a bucket. Each hit pushed the battle-tech a little further off-balance.

A lucky shot found a burnt out seal and the warrior's armor lit up from the inside. The bulky battle-tech tottered forward, its legs giving way before the body fell, face-down.

Syndicate members surged out of the alley, some into the neighboring buildings others down the street. Two men ran to raid the fallen warrior of its armor.

"Let's move," Germán shouted.

Snapping to his feet, Josué jumped across the alley and into the door Germán held. The voice weapon's silver case bumped against the wall as he hurried inside.

They ran to the front of the building where two stories of windows framed another duel between Syndicate fighters and a battle-tech warrior. The flurry of hits splashed like fireworks against the battle-tech armor. A stray shot wrenched the large blaster out of the warrior's hand. It burst into the lobby with a shower of glass and skidded to Felisa's feet.

Picking it up, she aimed at the soldier and squeezed the trigger. A blue bolt erupted from the oversized weapon, pushing her to the floor and hitting the warrior square in the neck. It burned a hole the size of a watermelon in it. The battle-tech fell forward.

"Are you alright?" Josué helped her to her feet.

"Keep moving!" Germán shouted.

Felisa balanced the blaster on her hip and slung the strap around her shoulder. It was as tall as she was, but she carried it with poise. They followed the big man down a stairway and into a tunnel.

Phantom gongs chased them through dingy hallways. Josué didn't think it could get any worse until they reached a section of the underground that was silent. All he could hear was his boots echoing in the empty tunnels. "Hasn't anyone else tried to go through the tunnels?"

Germán trotted confidently ahead of them, weapon at the ready. "I guess not."

Josué looked at Felisa with arched eyebrows.

Relax. He knows where he's going.

After a few more turns, Josué couldn't contain himself. "Where _are_ we going?" He turned away from Felisa's pursed lips, warning him not to ask.

"There is a section of jungle closest to the wall on the west side of the city. This tunnel will take us there."

Josué sighed and tried to catch Felisa's eye. _I wanted to know_. But she was already walking ahead of him.

The sounds of fighting renewed above them. The noise was a strange, welcome relief; at least there were Syndicate members left to fight.

At one point they climbed out of the underground tunnels to cross a city block. By then, the sun sat low on the horizon. Broken buildings and smoke stretched an ornate pattern against the red sky. Josué marveled at how much destruction could take place in so little time.

Germán led them to another underground network of tunnels, stopping at a T then it was up a stairway and out onto the city wall. From there they saw the battle-tech ring encircling the city.

The thin line of trees and brush followed the river to the wall where it entered the city. At the sight of the jungle, Josué felt hope. One tree looked near enough to jump into.

"If we get to the jungle, I can get us to the village," Josué said, though he wasn't even sure which direction Trevino Manor was from where they stood.

"That is what this is for." Germán produced a small round ball from his belt. He twisted it until it glowed blue-green then placed it in the middle of the walkway. He cocked his head to the side then toed it closer to the edge of the wall. "That ought to do it. Follow me."

Germán led them to a round trapdoor fifty feet away and lifted it. A straight-rung ladder descended into the darkness below. The big man started down, his bulk filling the round stairway.

Josué entered after Felisa, navigating the ladder with one hand, keeping a death grip on Enrique's weapon. The delicious sounds of water rippled under their feet. A silky black swirl reflected the sunset for one instant. The smell of jungle blew up and around him, and with it the taste of freedom.

At the bottom, they splashed into waist-deep water leading out of the city through a curved tunnel. An iron gate sealed the way out. A chain the size of Germán's arm kept them from going any further.

"Stand back," Germán said as he drew his blaster. "I've got to time this just right." He handed what looked like a thick black pen to Josué. "When I say 'go,' press the red light."

Josué nodded and held his thumb over the light, making his nail glow fiery red.

"Go," Germán said and shot his blaster at the lock on the chain.

Josué jammed the light as hard as he could. A rumble shook the wall. Rock and dust rained around them. The chain fell into the water.

Germán pushed open the gate, motioning for them to get low. As they swam upstream, Josué turned to see a battle-tech warrior inspecting the wall. Germán's grenade had broken up a large section of it. A parapet lay like a dinosaur scale, half-buried at the warrior's feet.

Josué's heart soared. They had escaped!

Chapter 15, City Subdued

Ormand scowled as he sat on his couch in front of the holographic wall. Looking at Apolino's face did little to improve his mood.

The presence of Galactic Warriors had not been in any of their plans, no matter what Mr. Ciro had come to tell them. It would be difficult for Ormand to work around. _Not impossible_ , but difficult.

"Good morning, my dear Ormand. I trust this day finds you at peace." Apolino smiled a smile a raptor would envy.

Ormand gripped the sides of his couch and struggled to think of the right reply. "Good morning to you, Mr. Apolino. If you would have announced your visitors, we could have provided better accommodations for them."

"Oh, you mean my personal guard? It's just good PR, Ormand. Sonora City has become a war zone. The Galactic Security Council has been up in arms for me to do something about it for months. Surely you've heard. They forced my hand, really. Someone had to stop the bloodshed." Mr. Apolino winked. "You would have preferred Federal troops to my own?"

Ormand grinned, a sharp pain piercing his jaw. He wondered how fast he could get sicario to the man's door. No, not sicario, he thought, he would handle this a different way . . . .

"I might have told you sooner, my dear Ormand, but my envoy, Mr. Ciro, has turned up missing. Have you any idea what may have happened to him?"

"No." Ormand grinned. "Sorry to hear that, I kind of liked Mr. Ciro. He had a quiet manner. Atlantos and I will miss him." Ormand was sure Apolino knew Mr. Ciro was dead, though the man's expression didn't betray that knowledge.

Apolino's stared down in a contemplative manner. "Well. I trust you will find the time to meet General Lacy during his tenure in your city."

Ormand nodded. "The captain of your guard? I'll be sure to meet him."

"He has some important information for you. It seems Hernan has departed our company. An unfortunate missile strayed into the jail during our entry to your illustrious city."

"A hasty move on your part, I might add." Ormand felt the tightness return to his jaw. "Hernan was of use to us."

"Of use to you." It was Mr. Apolino's turn to smile. "Hernan lost his usefulness to me a long time ago. I'm glad to be rid of him, frankly."

Ormand shrugged. "You will have a harder time getting your cut from the Syndicate without him."

"I will own the Syndicate without him." Mr. Apolino's gaze seemed almost fierce.

Ormand knew a bluff when he heard one. The Syndicate would fight to its death before it would allow Apolino to rule it. This man had lost his senses.

Apolino's smile stayed frozen in place. "We'll see what happens. We are in this to win it. The next few weeks will reveal how robust the Syndicate really is. If they wear down these troops, I'll just have to send more. The Galaxy has become interested in stopping the senseless bloodshed on your planet."

Ormand swallowed. "You haven't forgotten our agreement, have you?" Ormand stared straight ahead. He sensed Apolino had just pushed. If he ever started to shove, Ormand would make sure he found out how nasty the Omri Family could _really_ get. A chill went down his back as he thought of all the destruction he could bring to Toreón.

"Be at ease on that, my dear Ormand. Who else do I have to govern Sonora IV when the dust settles? Don't worry. You are still a part of the plan. No one knows better than you how to maintain order on that overgrown jungle of yours."

Ormand wasn't sure. He would have to be more careful from now on. He stretched in his seat, placing his hands behind his head.

Apolino spoke again, "Oh, there is something I've been meaning to discuss with you. About my cut of Trevino wine sales . . . I think it would suit me better to become part owner of the label. Trevino wine is a product I am interested in investing in." Mr. Apolino's eyes met Ormand's.

Ormand shifted, glaring back. It was no longer about profit then – the bastard. Ormand glanced at Atlantos. The lanky man sat out of range of the holo-session and flashed his eyes. Ormand knew there was no way he could agree to this.

"Shall we formalize it with the proper paperwork?" Ormand sat forward and lowering his gaze to Apolino's chest. There were so many ways he could kill this man if he ever got him onto Sonoran soil.

"There will be time enough for that, my dear Ormand. For now, keep out of the way of my guards. Stand back and watch the power of _your_ party. We work for you, you know. I'm sure you will find the streets of Sonora City safer under our watch. Until then, my friend." Mr. Apolino's confident expression faded from the screen.

Ormand kept a smile plastered on his face until the session died. Then he looked at Atlantos. His advisor sat, ankle on one knee, fingertips pressed together.

Ormand let his arms fall to his sides. "Hmm. . . ."

They sat in silence.

Then Atlantos spoke. "Let him break himself against the Syndicate. It will give us time. Apolino is vulnerable in the manner he thinks himself strong – public opinion. If we turn that against him, he will leave us."

Ormand felt his heart skip. "Yes, let him wear himself down while we grow stronger. He will find the Syndicate as bloody a problem as we have. This little police action could turn the Galaxy against him. A vote of no confidence would help. Get Melanion on that right away."

"Of course, Sire." Atlantos half smiled as he unfolded himself from the chair.

Ormand felt better. The nerve of Apolino. A whole contingent of guard – here! They had never agreed to this.

Book 3

The Natives

Chapter 1, John

Behind Josué the mechanical noise of battle-tech armor buzzed like the whisper of an oversized grasshopper. In front of him the darkness of the jungle loomed.

_How do we get to the village?_ Felisa asked.

It was the question he'd been trying not to think about since they'd entered the jungle. _Sacred sands?_

_They can't transport us there, if that's what you mean_. She put a hand on her hip.

Germán turned to them expectantly. Josué avoided his gaze, taking a step into the jungle. _There's a way_. _I've just got to find it_.

A shadow he'd mistaken for underbrush suddenly moved from behind a tree ten paces away. Josué's vision turned golden and he almost dropped Enrique's case. Pointed horns and a beaked mouth glinted in the glow of his eyesight. Josué swallowed, unsure what the massive animal would do. He'd only seen ceratopsids in the wild and read about their awful temper.

"Is this our answer?" Felisa asked at his shoulder.

Turning to her, he snapped his mouth shut. "I . . . uh, don't know if I would . . . ."

Felisa shrugged and took a step toward it. The dinosaur bent its front leg and turned its head. "It wants us to get on its back."

Josué grabbed her elbow. "I've never heard of anyone riding a triceratops and living to tell about it."

"This triceratops clearly doesn't mind, and we don't have much of a choice." She pulled her arm free, stepped on its knee and scrambled onto its back. She looked down at him with a satisfied air, holding out her hand. "It's another part of the prophecy." She smiled.

At the word prophecy, Josué raised an eyebrow. Hoping he wouldn't regret it, he walked over to her. "Well, if it hasn't gutted you by now, I guess it's safe."

He breathed easier once he was past the horns. Climbing up behind her, he wedged the silver case between them. The beast shook itself, clearly not minding them being there.

They looked down at Germán.

The big man shook his head and raised his hands. "Oh-no! You're not getting me on that thing."

"Come on. Look – it's here to help." Josué patted the dinosaur's shoulder. It made a grunt, its horns nodding as if in agreement.

"I'd rather walk. It can't be more than . . . 50 miles?" Germán took a step backward. Josué wanted to laugh. He hadn't seen his friend shrink from anything before.

A laze blast behind Germán interrupted his protest. In an instant he was astride the bulky animal, gripping Josué's shoulders. Then they all had to hang on as the triceratops bolted into the trees and protection of the jungle canopy.

Josué held Felisa's waist. "Do you think they'll follow us?" he asked against the wind.

"If they do, they won't get through this underbrush," she replied. "Especially at _this_ speed."

The triceratops _was_ fast. Not even a viper could move through the jungle like this animal. Its bulk carried them forward with little effort. They passed over the uneven terrain without a pause. The beak and bone collar parted branches and pushed vines aside like the bow of a ship through water.

They traveled for what seemed like half the night before slowing down. When they did, Josué heard Germán growl in his ear. "Are you guiding this thing? Or does it know where to go on its own?"

Josué had begun to wonder the same thing. "I'm not guiding it," he shouted back.

"He's finding a way around the river," Felisa said with a confidence Josué didn't feel.

"Are you guiding it?" he asked, but she only smiled back at him, clearly enjoying knowing more than he did.

The jungle thinned all at once and they found themselves in the open. Felisa's satisfied sigh was almost too much as the animal crossed a wide, shallow section of river.

On the far bank, the deep rumble of a battle-tech jet spooked the triceratops and they were off again. A low branch came at Josué out of the morning half-light. He ducked and heard Germán grunt as the branch snapped in his ear. The beast made a sharp turn and Josué had to hold on to keep from falling off.

Sunlight stretched into the jungle foliage before they finally slowed. A bird sang to their left. Their ride snorted, shook itself and stopped.

"There's the village!" Felisa shouted, pointing ahead of them.

Spiked logs surrounded a clearing at the top of the hill less than a hundred yards away.

Germán slid off the animal like a sack of potatoes. Josué hopped down and turned to help Felisa down, but she landed before he could raise his arms. The triceratops disappeared into the jungle, apparently done with them.

Josué turned to Germán and gasped. The big man sat with his head against a tree. A large red stain stretched under his arm. "Germán, you're hurt!"

The big man turned to them, a glazed look in his eyes. "Did we make it?"

"Yes. We're at the village." Felisa put her weapon down, crouched next to him and felt at his wound. Germán shivered at her touch.

_He's lost a lot of blood, but he'll survive_ , a familiar voice said in Josué's mind.

Josué turned to see Elder John standing behind them. Felisa straightened when she saw him, backing away from Germán, staring wide-eyed at the blue-robed figure.

Two large men in native garb pushed past Josué. They lifted the semi-conscious Germán in their arms and carried him into the protection of the village.

"Come with me, Josué, Felisa. We can't stay here. They're searching for you." The blue-robed elder led them through the village streets.

Josué tried to memorize the twists and turns as they came, but he could barely keep up with their guide let alone take in any detail. At one point he saw the pavilion through the trees. Nothing else looked familiar. They left the main walkway and stepped onto a dirt trail. Elder John led them to a small cottage, opened the front door and ushered them in.

The scent of cinnamon and oranges greeted them as the front door closed. The warm, smooth, off-white walls and wooden floors reminded Josué of Trevino Manor.

The Elder's hand landed on Josué's shoulder. "You have something for us?" he asked.

Nodding, Josué handed him the silver case. "Can you build more of these?"

John led Josué to the living area. "We intend to try."

Josué sat next to Felisa, who was already on the couch in the center of the room. The comfort of the cushions reminded him how long it had been since he'd slept. He watched the Elder leave, Enrique's case in hand.

_That was quite a ride_ , he said in his mind, but Felisa's eyes were already closed, her lips parted. He leaned his head against hers. It felt good to rest.

Chapter 2, Prophecies

The warmth of morning sunlight fell on Josué like a blanket. Through slitted eyes he traced the round window with wooden crossbeams near the foot of his bed. How long had it been since he'd slept on a real mattress?

Rubbing his forehead, he tried to pinpoint what felt so out of place. After a moment he realized he could hear his own breathing. No blaster sounds, no snoring bunkmates, no shouting guards disturbed this perfect morning. He sat up and smiled.

A giggle rippled down the hallway. He stretched his legs. Muscles he didn't know he had cried out.

A clean pair of pants and shirt lay on the chair next to his bed. Putting them on over his scars, he eased his back into the softness of the material.

Another giggle. He stood up from the bed and entered the hallway. Through a half-opened doorway, he saw Felisa sitting next to a tall woman on a fluffy white comforter. She was saying something he couldn't hear, her voice reminding him of cool waters.

He hesitated then touched the door. It creaked.

The woman looked up. "Good morning, Josué." Her golden hair and smile gave her an angelic glow. Sunlight streamed around her, enhancing the effect.

Felisa's eyes were damp. "We've been talking about home." She smiled. "Artemis knew my parents."

"I knew your mother too, Josué."

The mention of Josué's mother didn't surprise him here. The whole house reminded him of what he'd imagined his mother would be like. Even the room's smell matched a drawer of clothes he'd found in her old room once.

Elder John stepped from behind him. "I see you two are in good health – in spite of your ride." He patted Josué on the shoulder. "I trust you slept well?"

Josué nodded. "Is Germán alright?"

"He's recovering at the home of our best doctor. He'll be as good as new within the week."

"Can we see him?"

"You _will_ see him. However, this morning I need you to come with me to the council." John turned to Artemis.

Josué glanced at Felisa. _I'll be alright_ , he heard in his mind.

Artemis smiled and waved them out of the room. "Leave her here. We have plenty to talk about."

John turned to go. Josué followed him.

"I thought you might be hungry." The Elder led him to the kitchen, where an overflowing plate of breads, cheeses and jungle fruit sat in the center of a large table. Josué's mouth watered.

The elder sat down and picked up a cluster of grapes. "Enjoy."

Josué tried not to grab as he devoured the fruit by the handful. An odd feeling of familiarity struck him. Foods he'd never seen before tasted the way he thought they should.

He shifted in his seat and looked at the Elder. As he chewed on a bite of sweetbread he thought about the dream he'd had the night the battle-tech warriors had landed. It had felt like the Elder had been _there_ somehow. He wanted to ask, but couldn't think of how to bring it up without feeling awkward. "So, what will happen at the council?" he asked instead.

"Mateo wants to talk about things." The elder took a bite of a rather large apple.

"What kind of things?" Josué asked around a mouth-full.

"Oh . . . your voice weapon for one." Elder John took a drink of water. "Then there are the prophecies and what the sacred sands tell us about _you._ " He looked at Josué.

Josué wrinkled his brow. "What _are_ the sacred sands?" He hoped the Elder could give him something more than what Felisa had said.

"They make up the collective intent of our world. Think of them as a single consciousness spread throughout the planet. It communicates to us, guides us and protects Sonora IV."

Josué raised an eyebrow and grabbed another piece of fruit.

When they'd eaten enough, John led him out of the house and down a winding path. An open aired dais rose from the jungle like an ancient temple ruins. Pillars crowned the platform, holding up a semi-circle of carved rock. Torches flickered off the soft stones, making them warm and alive.

Bright red-orange flowers hung over the pathway leading to the steps. Blossom hung down, dripping with richness. By the time he stepped onto the dais, Josué felt he'd been cleansed in some way.

Five wide stone chairs were arranged in a circle around a knee-high table, centered on the platform. The torches cut the morning chill, making it feel sheltered on the platform.

Mateo, Ignacio, and Tacito stood around the table. John walked over to stand beside Mateo then indicated an empty seat between himself and Tacito. Josué stepped to it, feeling especially awkward when he noticed the voice weapon in the center of the table.

The four elders sat in silence. Josué couldn't help but notice the stark contrast of this meeting to his experience at settler Parliament. Finding a moment of silence in that room would have been like finding a smile on an Omri guard.

After a moment of continued silence, Josué began to wonder what he'd gotten himself into. He had to admit he'd only come on a gut instinct. The eyes of the woman from the jungle seemed to demand it of him. He settled into his chair. It was cold but surprisingly comfortable.

His grandfather had advised him to come, too. After all, with the galactic troops in the city, what else could he have done? They continued sitting. No one spoke.

Josué hoped he hadn't been wrong. He looked at the men again. The awkwardness had somehow left. Apprehension drained from his shoulders. In the distance, the marsh erupted with birds. The mountain range beyond it basked in the morning sun. He wondered if he had ever searched _that_ range for El Umbral. How close was he to the Trevino property?

Mateo finally spoke. "Welcome, Josué son of Thetis."

Josué glanced down at his arms. His skin was as pale as a settler's. The city had afforded him little opportunity for sun this past week.

"You have come to us with a purpose." Mateo lifted the weapon, a grim look on his face.

The gun looked alien in the Elder's hands, like an oversized toy or a gaudy settler tool. He thought about the whole pitiful war he'd been caught up in. It all felt so futile to him now – a struggle over impossibilities. What rights did settlers have to this planet, yet here they were killing each other over it.

Mateo placed the weapon back on the table and looked at Josué. "We will help you," he said.

Josué sat back. Perhaps he _had_ been right to come.

"With the following understanding," Mateo added quickly.

Josué checked himself. There would have to be a catch.

"As natives," Mateo indicated the village around them, "we only have _so_ many resources." Josué followed the Elder's glance. He could see the village through the trees. It looked peaceful, yet small. Compared to Sonora City, it was insignificant. Had he asked too much from these people? Why should they get involved in this fight, anyway? Maybe he'd been wrong to come here.

Mateo went on, "We know the struggle you are in better than you do, and I want to assure you, we are on your side." Mateo stroked his chin as if considering the statement. "That is to say, we stand for similar things."

Mateo picked up Enrique's weapon again. Josué wished he wouldn't. "This weapon . . . ." Mateo turned it over in his hands. ". . . is something we could replicate if we had the right materials."

Josué placed his foot on his knee, picking absently at the bottom of his boot. He wondered what the Elder was getting at.

"Let me show you what I mean." Mateo concentrated on the table between them. A hologram of a mountain peak filled the surface of the table. The image zoomed in to a cave nestled in an alcove.

"What you are seeing is the entrance to El Umbral, the ancient native mines – as you call them." Mateo smiled at Josué as if anticipating the effect of his words.

Josué blinked and sat forward. He could feel his heart beating in his temples. "Are you serious? You mean it's not just a legend?" He'd always believed in El Umbral, he just hadn't realized it might actually exist. His quest to find it had given him something to do and a hope he might find his mother through finding it.

"It is real. We sealed the mines during the settler invasion. Before then, they had provided centuries of building material for our people. All maps of the mines were destroyed save this one. You could say our people were a bit _overzealous_ in their effort to protect the knowledge of its location. Unfortunately, even this map only shows us the entrance and some of the inside corridors."

Josué's sat back and stared at the hologram, fighting a chill. His eyes searched the three dimensional image, trying to take in every detail – the face of the rocks, the lay of the trees, the color of the soil. He sat forward. "Does the map zoom out? Can you see the surrounding mountains?"

The elder shook his head.

Josué bit his lower lip. "I can see why their location has remained a secret."

"Our prophecies indicate, and the sacred sands validate it – _you_ are the one to lead us to El Umbral." Mateo leaned forward. "If you lead us there, we will be able to help you."

Josué looked at the golden-robed elder and swallowed. "You want _me_ to find them?"

"The resources hidden in those mines can purchase an army to conquer the Galaxy." Mateo folded his hands in his lap.

"We need the materials to build the weapons." Elder John leaned forward. "Enrique used gold as the primary element in the voice amplification component. You will not be able to create more weapons without more gold."

"And a few other elements we would also find: crystal quartz, copper, iron." Tacito crossed his leg.

Josué considered the weapon and the three dimensional map. Could he do it? He'd always promised himself he would find El Umbral when he grew up. He just hadn't imagined growing up this fast. Belief was written in the faces of the men around the table. Josué cleared his throat and found himself saying, "I'll do it."

Chapter 3, Timeos

Josué wiped sweat from his eye and swung his machete downward. A weed so long he couldn't see its ends tugged at his ankle, connecting him to the mountain they'd just searched. How many mountains had it been? He'd hoped to have been back by now – with Felisa. He would check on Germán again and make preparations to repel the Galactic troops at Southern Ops.

Basilio, his appointed guide – who didn't believe in carrying a weapon and ate off the land – chopped at a large branch. The wood split, taking a whole section of jungle with it and revealing another mountainside opposite the river.

Josué stopped and kicked his foot free. "There it is. Mountain Range five. Or is this six?" His smile felt fake. They'd seen so many mountains in the past few days. Josué swung at the brush and kicked aside a branch. Maybe he could keep his foot free for a _few_ more steps.

"Perhaps this is the one." Basilio stepped forward.

"I hope you're right." Josué stretched, pushing at the small of his back with the handle of his machete. They had moved at a breakneck pace the first two days. Disappointment, weeds and underbrush had slowed them since. Most of all, it had been the disappointment.

When he was honest with himself, he wondered if the whole thing wasn't hopeless. "Do you really think the Elders are right on this? Maybe the sacred sands didn't mean for us to find El Umbral after all?" He was beginning to wonder if he still had the link. Had he seen yellow since Sonora City? He couldn't remember.

"It's only been a week. Don't give up now," Basilio said firmly.

"Why do _we_ get to wander the jungles of Sonora IV while the Syndicate fights galactic troops at Southern Ops?" Josué slashed at the foliage. "I never meant to be gone this long."

Basilio shrugged. "If we find it, your fight will be over."

Josué missed the branch he swung at, almost chopping off his kneecap. "Are there any Syndicate members left to fight? If the sacred sands wanted me to find this place . . . ," but Josué didn't know how to finish that statement. He wondered if Germán had healed by now, or if Felisa missed him as much as he missed her.

_Can you hear me, Felisa?_ he called, but nothing came back – as usual. He headed for the river, ashamed he'd tried to talk to Felisa again. If they found El Umbral, they could return. "Are you coming?" he called over his shoulder.

"Right behind you." But Basilio took a long drink from his canteen first.

"How many more mountains are in this range?" Josué eyed the one in front of them. He paused mid-swing and pointed to the cresting peak in the center. "Basilio, do you think that peak resembles a fault?"

"A _fault_ , sir?" Basilio wrinkled his brow as he examined the peak. It was obvious the man didn't know what a fault was.

"If there's water coming down from that mountain, it would be a good sign." Josué took a step. The mud and sap layered onto the bottom of his shoes made him feel like he was walking on a carpet. "Strong gold-quartz veins form in the presence of water," he said, trying to convince himself more than Basilio. "Gold, in the amount the legends tell us of would need an underground river or something. If we're lucky . . . ." He looked up again. "Yes, let's cross here."

Basilio's smile looked placid. Why didn't Josué feel placid?

Later that evening they finally found a place to cross without getting soaked. As the sun hid behind the mountain range, Basilio cut away a branch, exposing a creek coming down from the mountain. It wasn't large, but it was water.

"Let's camp here." Josué sunk down against a tree.

***

He woke the next morning to the smell of grilled fish. He had to give his guide credit. The man knew how to find food when it looked like there wasn't any.

"Shall we search this one?" Josué glanced at the mountain while swallowing a mouthful of deliciousness.

"The creek will make it easier to climb." Basilio pointed up the hillside. "The underbrush grows thinner in there."

Josué nodded. "This mountain looks like it has formed at the edge of a fault. Pressure from a rock formation like that can only promise good things."

By midmorning they were halfway up. As Josué stepped over a rock, his heart jumped. A weird shaped pebble, prickly like a fossilized bird dropping sparkled in the sunlight. He bent over to pick it up. It was stiff and bent under the pressure of his fingertips. He bit into it and smiled. "Gold." He handed it to Basilio.

They moved twice as fast after that discovery. Near the top, the mountain became more rock than jungle. Boulders and crevices took the place of trees and underbrush.

It wasn't long before they came to a mid-sized pool bubbling up from a large flat rock. Gold flecks covered the massive headstone, glinting in the late morning light.

"The creek source!" Josué sat down on a rock. He reached over to splash water on his face. "Somewhere on this mountainside must be the entrance to the mine, or to _a_ mine with a good amount of gold in it."

With little warning, Josué's vision turned yellow. He saw a carefully aimed blaster in his mind. "Look out," he shouted and leaped into Basilio, knocking the guide backward.

The heat of a laze blast flashed over Josué's shoulder. The tree behind Basilio was cut by the blast. Its leaves and branches fell over them, providing cover.

Josué rolled to the nearest boulder. "Did you see where it came from?"

The guide pointed to a ledge no more than a few hundred feet away. "There."

Josué peeked through the limbs of the fallen tree. The squinty face of someone he recognized peered down at them. "Timeos! What's he doing on Native land?"

He wished he had his voice weapon with him now, or any weapon for that matter. He'd taken enough shots from Timeos. Biting his lip, he turned to his guide. "Basilio, distract him. Make noise with those branches over there. I'll circle around and get above him."

"Alright." Basilio looked solemnly up at the ledge.

As quickly and as silently as he could, Josué ran parallel to the ledge through the thickest part of the jungle. The trees behind him began to shake.

A laser blast burned into the jungle, stopping the branches. Josué hoped it hadn't harmed his guide. When the noise started again he gritted his teeth and dashed across the open rock.

Making it to the ledge, he swung up and around the rock over Timeos.

Timeos stood in a narrow cave-like structure. The boy leaned over the ledge and searched the mountainside, eyeing the path Josué had just taken. It was only a matter of time before Timeos looked up.

Josué clenched his fists, tried to still the pounding in his ears then jumped. Timeos turned. Josué latched onto his arm, spun and slammed it into a rock. The blaster clattered to the ground. Josué kicked it and watched with a satisfactory smile as the weapon slid over the edge.

Timeos' arm wrapped around his neck. He was thrown backward. A sharp rock hit Josué in the hip. His leg went numb.

A strong uppercut caught Josué in the eye. He staggered, leaned into what he knew would be a feeble kick. He cried out. The searing pain in his leg stopped his foot before it connected.

Timeos raised his fists like a boxer. "Where'd you come from, half-breed? You're supposed to be dead! But, don't worry. I can fix that for you." He threw a punch that would have sent Josué over the ledge if he hadn't ducked.

"We'll see how tough you are without your blaster." Josué kicked with his other leg and connected.

"Hah!" Timeos shouted. "You think you can take me? Half-blood! Native!"

Timeos threw a punch that landed on Josué's left temple, knocking him into the rocks. Stars danced in his vision.

"Take _that_ back to your manor dojo." Timeos spat.

Before Josué could stand, his opponent was on him like the wind, maneuvering his arms around and behind Josué's head. Locked up like a coat hanger, his arms hung uselessly in the air.

The larger kid heaved Josué toward a particularly pointy rock. As Timeos heaved, Josué grunted and kicked. Pushing back with his shoulders, he managed to walk up the wall and flip over Timeos.

From behind, he grabbed Timeos in a headlock and watched the boy's face turn red. Timeos kicked, but Josué hung on, thankful for the months he'd spent plowing Ormand's fields. Timeos kicked again. Josué held. Finally, with one huge kick, Timeos knocked them both over the ledge.

They landed in separate heaps. Unfortunately, Josué got to his feet second. When he did, Timeos stood over him, his blaster pointed at Josué's chest.

Josué took a step back and raised his hands. "Easy there Timeos. No need to _kill_ anyone here." A thin wisp of vapor trickled out of what looked like a crack in the blaster's casing. Something Enrique had said about the dangers of a blaster came back to Josué's mind. He took a larger step backward.

"Hah! Let's see you get out of this one, Trevino scum. I've got you, and you've had it coming." Timeos gritted his teeth and pulled the trigger. Nothing happened.

Timeos blinked and pulled the trigger again. The blaster emitted a high-pitched whine.

Josué dove behind a tree.

A blinding flash filled the hillside, engulfing the foreman's son. When Josué looked, a kid-sized mushroom cloud hung in the air where Timeos had been.

Chapter 4, The Mine

Josué led Basilio to the entrance of the cave. Timeos' pack lay in the narrow opening. A headlamp and clean pickaxe handle stuck out from the bundle of food and climbing gear.

"Timeos must have just arrived." Josué gave a weak smile. "This _is_ unregulated land. It belongs to the natives. Timeos _shouldn't_ have been here." Josué searched his guide's face, but Basilio just shrugged and stepped into the cave.

Josué decided to change the subject. "Look at the worn ground. Do you think it's from natives using this entrance in ancient times?"

The guide still said nothing, stepping further into the cool darkness of the cave.

The passage led down. Josué grabbed Timeos' headlamp, but quickly found he didn't need it. A glow emanated from a shelf-like outcropping of rock where phosphorescent moss grew.

The tunnel turned to the right and continued down with a steep grade. Further on, more moss lit the way. Another chill ran down Josué's spine. He was sure the moss had been placed there on purpose. "Basilio, I think we may have found it."

The native's walk betrayed no excitement. His shadowy face was unreadable.

"Good thing we got here before Timeos found it."

"We haven't found anything yet." Basilio quiet voice sounded bitter.

Josué scratched his head. "You must not realize how crude settler mines are. There's no way a settler could have made anything this clean cut and well fashioned, not to mention the moss lanterns. Settler lamps would have replaced those. Not to mention this is native land. . . ." His voice trailed off.

The passage continued downward to a tall chamber where it dead-ended at a narrow bridge across a wide chasm. Glow-moss grew along the bridge's edge. Long shadows reached along the sheer walls of the chamber.

"Look at that bridge!" Josué took a step, kicking a stone over the edge as his foot moved. He counted, ". . . thirteen . . . fourteen . . . fifteen. Fifteen seconds. How deep is that?"

Basilio grinned. "Deep." The guide looked at the bridge as if he wanted to cross.

"Do you think it's safe?" Josué placed a foot on it, leaning forward with all his weight. "How long has it been since this mine was lost?"

"The natives hid it shortly after the settlers arrived." Basilio looked across the chasm. "Once it became obvious how _gold_ -hungry they were."

Josué heard the accusation. Perhaps Basilio thought he was here to steal the gold like Timeos had been. Josué couldn't blame him if he did. Settlers _had_ invaded his world.

He took a deep breath and moved quickly to the bridge's center. It was as solid as the passageway above. "It seems safe." He stepped the rest of the way across.

On the other side, a six-foot stonework gate had been built into the wall of rock. A solid iron portcullis in front of wooden doors sealed the passageway.

Josué glanced at Basilio. "This _must_ be it."

A smile tugged at the guide's mouth.

"Don't you think?"

Basilio shook the heavy iron portcullis. Dust fell to the floor like slow drifting snow. "How do we get in?"

"There's got to be a way." Josué walked to the solid wall. The stone felt smooth and cold to the touch – dishearteningly cold.

He blinked and his eyesight turning golden yellow at last! Anxious he might lose the link, he moved his hand across the rock. A glimmer of light flared around a square seam. He pushed at the square's center before it disappeared.

A perfectly cut rock slid back into a slim recess. The sound of stone grating against stone rumbled through the chamber.

The portcullis groaned then shook with a crash. The iron bars trembled and the gate shuddered into motion, rising up out of the way.

Josué held onto the wall, the quaking of the ledge rattled his teeth. He hoped the rock was sturdy enough after all of these years. There was no place to go but down.

The portcullis screeched to a halt and the doors behind it opened like the slow yawn of an ancient one. A high-pitched squeal of protest grated on Josué's ears.

Basilio stepped under the portcullis, oblivious to the sound, following the doors inward. A satisfied grin finally showed on the man's face.

Josué followed him inside just as the doors slammed to a stop. Dust from the walls and arches fell softly to the floor. White glow-moss hung inside the keep. A spacious, circular courtyard welcomed them. Two rooms branched off to their right.

Basilio walked into the first and gave a low whistle. Josué looked over his shoulder. The room was lined with golden armor. Mail shirts, peaked helmets, broadswords and golden-tipped spears hung behind round shields made of solid gold, mounted in three rows.

"Incredible!"

Basilio's shoulders stiffened.

Josué backed out of the room. Perhaps Basilio needed time – alone.

He found a wide-arched doorway past the two rooms leading into an unfinished cavern. This was what he'd come to see! Naked rock framed a rough pathway into a dimly lit tunnel. He stepped into the cavern.

Halfway down the path he tripped over a dented helmet. Picking it up, he blew a cloud of dust off of its round dome, glittering in the phosphorescent light. Josué hoped it was gold dust.

The helmet fit hard against his brow, a little too tight, but he kept it on. With a glance back at the armory, he stepped further into the tunnel.

Carved framework and wooden supports showed the skill and carefulness of the native miners. Their beams were wider; their stone cuts rounder and smoother. It was superior to what Josué had seen in any settler mine. He leaned against a wooden support beam. It was as solid as if it had been installed the day before.

The passage led through a moderately-sized chamber. The walls glittered with quartz, but it was the darker spots that grabbed Josué's attention. He dug his nail into one and gasped. Gold deposits were on the very wall!

An army to conquer the Galaxy, indeed!

Chapter 5, The Watch

At first, Basilio had wanted to be the one to guard the mine. Josué had agreed, knowing the guide's issues with settlers and gold. Josué would be the one to run back to the village to get the others while Basilio stayed behind.

But, when Josué had asked the way back, it became obvious the guide wanted to change his mind. Maybe he thought Josué would get lost – or worse.

Although, Josué had never been lost in his life, he had never wandered through the jungle on his own either. His experience with the quicksand had given him a healthy respect for the dangers out there.

Awkwardly, he mentioned to Basilio how it made more sense to let him guard the mine. Basilio had agreed and left before mid-day.

Sitting there on the top of the mountain a few hours later, Josué wasn't sure how glad he was to have won the argument. What would he do if the Omri Guards showed up? Timeos hadn't brought a viper, or not one Josué could find. The boy must have been left to explore. Whoever dropped him off would surely be picking him up again.

Josué hoped Basilio would return before they did. Eyeing the food pack Timeos had brought, he winced at how light it looked. At least they wouldn't be searching for Timeos at night, he hoped, pulling a date cake from Timeos' pack.

Standing on the large rock over the cave entrance, the whole valley opened up below him. The sun sat low on the horizon, perched on the western rim of the mountain range. Its last golden rays warmed his feet.

The single moan of a raptor rose and fell in the valley below. Josué stopped mid-chew then continued when he remembered how raptors kept to the valleys. It was something about their talons grating against the rocks. He'd be safe above the tree line, he told himself.

The sun dropped behind the mountains and a mist rose from the trees. A bright blue and red bird hopped across the jungle canopy to disappear beneath the green foliage. Knocker bugs started a rhythm that echoed across the valley. The night sun began its path across the sky and the stars came out, gleaming through the red haze. It felt more like home than any place he'd been since the night of the raid.

Lying on the large rock's smooth surface, the warmth from the day sun seeped into his aching muscles. He looked up at the stars and thought about Felisa and her soft lips.

***

Halfway through the night, a deep thrumming woke him. The night sun was a small fireball perched on the horizon.

The thrumming stopped when he raised his head. Josué looked down at the mine entrance. Two large, silvery eyes peered back at him. The shadow of a tongue flickered between him and the eyes. A lizard-like shadow shifted in the narrow entrance of the cave.

Josué stared, unable to move. The eyes blinked; each one half as big as his head.

Holding his breath, his eyesight turned amber. _If you ignore the animal, it will most likely leave you alone_ , he said to himself. Obeying the instinct, he lay his head back down. After a while, the thrumming started again. Josué's eyesight returned to normal.

Was this how the sacred sands worked? Yellow sight with the answers he needed, but only when he really needed them?

He considered the concept, but quickly decided there had to be something more to it. The Elders had a much deeper connection than he did.

Then he wondered if he would ever have the depth of connection Elder John had. Would his half-settler heritage hinder him?

***

Josué blinked awake in the bright warmth of the morning sun. The mine entrance below him was empty. The animal, whatever it had been, had gone.

Stomach rumbling, Josué climbed down to the tree line to search for breakfast. In spite of Basilio's negative outlook and obvious suspicion of settlers, he had really shown Josué a lot about how to survive in the jungle, something Josué appreciated as he started to climb a Mangarine tree.

Under the cover of the tree's leaves, he paused and cocked his head to the side. A vaguely familiar sound had entered the valley at the southern end.

Stilling his breath, he listened. It was the unmistakable hum of a skimmer.

He looked out through the branches. A brown vehicle made its way into the valley, flying up the river. Two men in the open-aired vehicle searched the mountainside.

Zim's men! With a flash of panic, Josué realized he hadn't come up with a plan, yet.

His mind raced. What did he have to fight with? There was Timeos' pick. The machete . . . . He shook his head. None of those would work against blasters.

The skimmer's hum changed pitch as it paused. Josué slid down the tree. Perhaps they wouldn't notice _this_ peak. Did they even know where Timeos had gone? There hadn't been a radio in the pack. Maybe they would fly out of the valley after a moment.

Josué stepped toward the cave, keeping within the cover of the tree line. Tensing his muscles, he prepared to dash across the rock and into the mine entrance.

His eyesight turned yellow.

The low staccato of a raptor roar echoed through the valley, a challenge roar! The scrape of talon against metal immediately followed. The skimmer's engine turned to a high-pitched whine before grinding to silence.

Josué jumped up onto the mine ledge and looked down into the valley. A thin column of smoke rose from the overturned skimmer. A brilliant green raptor perched on it.

With a flick of its tail, it slipped beneath the brown hull and out of sight. Petrified cries echoed through the valley, silenced quickly by blood-chilling gurgles. A tree shook then everything was still.

***

Early the next day, motion in the north side of the valley brought hope. Standing high on what he'd begun to call Lookout Rock, he watched the trees in the valley move as if a giant snake undulated through them. The movement spread out in a line along the river.

The familiar grunt of a triceratops echoed across the valley. Basilio had returned.

Chapter 6, The Dais

The dais overlooked the marshlands. From the edge of its circular platform Josué thought he could see an arched sauropod neck and wondered if it was an Omri slave team plowing a rice paddy. He could almost feel the silt between his toes and the push of the massive plow. In an odd way he missed his days there – horrible as they were. His shoulders had broadened under the weight of the plow beam, he had come to know dinosaurs there _and_ he had made a friend.

"Are you thinking thoughts of balance, Master Trevino?" Tacito walked up and gripped his arm.

Josué smiled, remembering the Elder's personality theories. "Yes, as a matter of fact I think I am." Even the massive plow-beam resembled a balance. Perhaps the Elder was right. He was a stabilizer.

"It's not a bad thing. Some of the best leaders in history have been Stabilizers. You're on your way to greatness of your own, I would think." Tacito looked out at the marsh for a moment longer then turned to the council table and found his seat.

One word from the man's comment stuck with Josué, _greatness_. What would greatness be like for him? From what his grandfather had shown, he could rightly claim the title, 'Master Grandee.' It was a kind of greatness. The Omri Family had certainly thought of the title as something to _kill_ for. Like the massive plows of the rice paddies, they had driven people into the ground in their struggle to claim it.

Someone would have to stop Ormand, Josué decided. It would be a _good_ thing if not a _great_ thing to rid the planet of a man like Ormand Omri. Perhaps that would be his greatness.

He turned to find his seat across from Tacito.

There were six chairs in the circle this time. Germán would join them. The big man's voice broke the silence of the Dais, ". . . enough ships to blockade Sonora IV, unless they rush us. Even then we'd take 'em comfortably enough." Germán caught himself when he stepped onto the platform. Cheeks red, he almost tiptoed to an empty chair, his finger in front of clinched lips.

After what seemed like a traditional moment of silence, Mateo began. "Josué, we owe you a debt."

Josué looked up at the Elder. The man smiled, concentrating on the table. A hologram of a building appeared in its center. When the image clarified, it zoomed out and rotated slowly. There was a pond along the side of the white mansion. An arched bridge stretched over the water to a pathway leading to another small, roundish building on the hillside.

Josué sat forward. The layout felt familiar. As the image rotated slowly, he saw four white pillars frame the front of the main building. Two windows looked out either side of a door he would never forget. "Trevino Manor!"

"We're in the first stages of rebuilding it. We'd like to continue, with your permission of course."

Josué looked up then looked hastily down, feeling his eyes a little too moist. "It looks just the way I remember it. I . . . Yes . . . Of course you have my permission."

"Good." Mateo looked pleased. Then with both hands he lifted a large bag and placed it on the table. The image vanished. He pushed the bag over to Josué.

"Your first week's earnings from the mine. You will continue to receive a monthly portion while the mine is in operation. Finder's rights, if you will." The man nodded at him to take it.

Josué slid the bag over and almost picked it up before sliding it further, to Germán. "Will this help with the blockade?"

Germán looked down and coughed; his face slightly red. "Yes. It would add another ship . . . or even two." He cleared his throat. "Are you sure?"

Josué nodded. "I don't want any more of Apolino's men to land on this planet. We need to make it as tight as we can. Starve out Ormand. Feed the Syndicate."

Germán nodded and set the bag next to his chair.

Mateo leaned against his seat. "This brings me to another point. The injustices of the Omri Family have gone unanswered by our people for far too long. We've endured wanton raids, enslavement and encroachment of our land." Mateo paused and leaned forward. "We will endure it no longer."

As he spoke, the elder looked at Josué. Josué shifted his position, wondering why the Elder had singled him out from the others. Everyone at the table had reason to hate the Omri Family.

Mateo cleared his throat. "The sands indicate _you_ , Josué are the one to lead us to victory over the Omri Family."

Josué's ears burned. He could feel his face flush. His shirt seemed too tight. The elder must have made a mistake. He glanced at Germán. His friend sat forward, an eager expression on his face. Josué didn't feel eager; he felt a strange desire to slink away from the meeting. He swallowed. "Why me?"

Mateo sat back. "As a native – and the head of the Syndicate by birth and right, it makes sense."

At the word native, Josué glanced down at his arms. They glowed with the native hue. The sun and jungle from his walk to El Umbral had brought out the golden color.

He knew it wouldn't be enough, though. Felisa had never thought of him as native, even when his skin glowed like hers. It couldn't be shaken. He was an outsider – a half-breed.

Mateo continued, "There is no one better trained to fight the Omri Family. With the Syndicate and the Trevino name, you are in a unique position. All of that aside – the sacred sands speak your name."

Josué couldn't express the doubt he felt. "But . . ." he started, a frown creasing his chin and cutting off his words. He just never _felt_ native before. He had never belonged to _any_ people, too native to be settler and too settler to be native. "I don't think I'm native enough."

The elders glanced at one another. The pained expression on Elder John's face made Josué wish he hadn't said it. "Your mother was native, Josué. There is no doubt of your heritage."

It was obvious none of them had ever thought of him as anything but native.

"You have the link. Elder John has verified this." Mateo's expression was sincere.

Elder Ignacio leaned forward. "You've found El Umbral, brought us the voice weapon, and you control the Syndicate – the only other fighting force on the planet _not_ on Ormand's payroll."

Josué shifted in his seat. He rarely heard Ignacio speak, let alone pay attention to anything other than his books. The man's passion stirred something in Josué.

"You are the only one who can do this." Mateo pressed the tips of his fingers together. "We, as a people, will follow no one else into battle." The golden elder looked at the others around the table, his gaze stopping at Germán. Josué followed the gaze, noting the nods of agreement.

The way Mateo made it sound; it had already been decided. Basilio's attitude still bothered him, though. "Basilio barely followed my lead. How can I command a people who hate the very sight of settlers?"

_Basilio's wife was captured by the Omri Family._ Josué heard Elder John's words in his mind. _She is likely dead._

Mateo put his hand on Josué's shoulder. "But, he _did_ follow you, didn't he?"

Josué looked down. Perhaps he hadn't been fair to Basilio. The guide had done everything he'd asked of him. "I've only studied warfare from books. I have no experience actually fighting."

"You have men with experience at your disposal." Mateo gestured to Germán. "Germán is a seasoned warrior. And there is Garvin." He waved his arm around the circle of chairs. "We, as the Elders of _your_ people, will advise you." He stared blankly at Josué as if waiting for another excuse.

Josué searched Germán's face, remembering the moment the two cell leaders had presented him with the fact that _he_ now led the Syndicate. Garvin and Germán had believed in him then. Their loyalty had not faded. "What do _you_ say, Germán?"

The big man crossed his arms. "I agree with Mateo. As the Syndicate, we work for you. The resources these people have. . . ." He looked around at the dais and pointed through the trees to the village. "The warriors they can bring to the fight may be the edge you need. It will certainly be something Ormand won't expect. Could be enough to knock him out of power. If, as Mateo says, they only follow you, it is up to you to decide what to do."

Josué sunk back in his chair. His heart burned in his chest. He gritted his teeth. Hadn't he just found _their_ gold mine? Now they wanted him to fight _their_ war?

He crossed his arms. It was his war too, after all. He had just as much pain invested in removing Ormand as they did – perhaps more. He would gain from it too he reminded himself. His foot tapped the floor. It would be his family that rose from the ashes of this conflict if they were successful.

He pursed his lips. He _could_ do it, he had no doubt. His father and Hector had trained him for it. There had been countless hours on strategy and warfare.

Tacito spoke up. "Look, maybe this is too much, too soon. Perhaps we should give him time to think it over."

"I don't need time." Josué leaned forward. "I'll do it. When can we be ready?"

"I can drop the gold off for the blockade and be back within a week." Germán looked at Elder Mateo.

"We can have an army ready for you within that same week." Mateo crossed his arms.

"A week it is, then." Josué wondered if it would be enough time to come up with a plan.

Chapter 7, Omri Manor

The torch light on the dais flickered in the night hour, making everything seem golden. Josué held his father's voice weapon in his hands and ran his finger along the blaster barrel. Squinting, he relived the moment he had shot the weapon the first time. There had been a glimmer in his father's eyes. _It was your greatest invention, Father_ , he said, wishing the link could send his message to his father, even now. _Let's hope it will be enough_.

"We will have more ready by the end of the week," Elder John said. "Meet us at Trevino Manor when you are finished."

Josué nodded. The past seven days had been spent watching drills and talking strategy. They wouldn't need the voice weapon for the first wave – if everything went according to plan.

Germán entered the council and sat down. All five faces turned to him.

"Good news. The gold bought us _three_ ships for the blockade – better than we'd hoped."

Josué grinned. "Excellent."

Mateo nodded and looked at Elder John. "I trust things are coming together with the army?"

The blue-robed elder nodded in silent agreement.

Josué scooted to the edge of his seat. "Elder John and I have planned a move against the Omri Family. Something swift and decisive." He looked at Mateo, hoping he would hear him out and at the same time startled to see he would. "We propose to attack Omri Manor itself."

Across the table, Germán shoulder's shook. An audible chuckle escaped.

The elders looked at one another. Tacito spoke first. "I admire your courage, Josué, but haven't other families tried this and failed?"

"The Dominicci Family tried it, yes." Josué put his hands on the table. "But they failed because they tried to do it at the wrong time of year. They attacked when Ormand was at the manor – his guard at full strength. If we attack while Parliament is in session and Ormand is away, only half of the guard will be there." He sat back.

Tacito looked at Germán. The veteran nodded and leaned forward. "What Josué says is true. Ormand takes his best men with him to the city. He has more to fear there than at the manor."

Josué spoke again, "During Parliamentary sessions, the watchmen grow lax. As slaves, we welcomed the sessions and prayed they would last as long as possible."

John looked at Ignacio. The man nodded slightly.

"If we destroy his manor, the Omri Family can no longer claim a seat in Parliament," Josué added. "If we succeed, we remove his staging base. And, if we're lucky, we may destroy his weapons cache."

Mateo sat with his arms crossed, looking from Josué, to Germán then to Elder John. "What do you say, Tacito?"

"It sounds feasible. A victory would boost morale and unite the men under Josué."

"Ignacio?" Mateo turned to the green-robed elder.

"Parliament will be in session tomorrow. Ormand has likely already left the compound. I could send a scout to verify it."

"Do so." Mateo put his hands on the table. "I like Josué's plan. If you don't have any objections, Elder John?"

The blue-robed elder shrugged his shoulders. "The troops are ready. I think Josué's has an excellent idea."

"A day should be enough to finalize things then." Mateo caught Josué's eye and smiled. "Pass the word, we move tomorrow night."

Josué hadn't expected it to go that smoothly. He turned to Germán. The warrior gave a thumb's up.

***

The briskness of the preceding week dissolved into the slowness of the next twenty-four hours. A million possible things to go wrong played out in his mind. Secretly he had hoped there would have been more opposition to his idea – or at least more guidance. He was certain his plan was right, but still, he felt uneasy. The nagging feeling he'd overlooked or forgotten some crucial detail wouldn't go away.

In spite of how slow time moved, the moment to mount his triceratops came all too soon. A line of native soldiers stood at attention next to a milling group of ceratopsids. Josué's toes felt like ice and his knees like thin wires. He knew they waited on him.

Out of the corner of his eye he saw Germán. The man scowled at his beast from behind the bone collar. For some reason the look on his friend's face gave Josué courage. He nodded down the line and climbed his mount.

Germán mounted next, with difficulty. Felisa glided onto her triceratops, her captured battle-tech blaster balanced on her hip. The rest of the men mounted in unison.

Fear and anticipation tingled in Josué's fingers. He looked down the jungle path. Then, without further ceremony, he kicked his animal into motion.

The sun dipped below the horizon as they left the safety of the village perimeter. A cold wind blew across his shoulders. An icy knot clenched his gut.

Under the night sky's rosy glow, Josué looked down the column of men. Their tank-like dinosaurs gave an aura of majestic power.

Felisa caught his glance and smiled. He focused on the pathway ahead, still unsure if the triceratops led him or he led the triceratops.

***

As the night sun perched on the horizon, a silent line of native warriors stretched into the jungle behind Omri Manor. "The first wave of the attack will be on foot," Josué said.

"Right. No need to risk the triceratopses." Germán agreed all too eagerly. "Besides, how will you get them over the walls? An unencumbered foot soldier will more easily breach the Omri defenses."

Knowing how the man felt about the beasts, Josué wondered about his motives. He directed his captains to position around the manor. Each one moving through the jungle without a sound like only a native could.

_How many times have we imagined a day like this_ , he asked Felisa in the quiet as they waited for the night sun to hide itself below the horizon.

"Too many," she said out loud, emotion ripe in her voice.

As the last rim of red glow dipped behind the mountains, Josué raised and lowered his hand in a chopping motion. The whistle of arrows filled the air. Grunts, followed by the soft thumping of men hitting the ground echoed throughout the compound.

Within five minutes they had cleared the towers and breached the walls. A silent tide of grey robes washed over the walls and across the manor lawn.

Josué, Felisa and Germán led their animals through the front gate and up the main pathway. They stopped in front of the manor proper. The doors lay flat on the inside of the great hall. Native warriors raced through corridors, past windows and up and down stairways. One of the captains appeared in the hallway, escorting three Omri guards, their hands over their heads.

A cheer erupted from the slave quad. Josué turned to see an entire line of Omri guards, hands on their heads, parade around the far corner of the manor. Freed slaves ran along behind, throwing water at them and stopping to hug their native liberators. The captives were escorted to the wall and forced to kneel.

A native captain stepped out of the Manor doorway, walked up to Josué and saluted.

"What's the report, Gurion?"

"All secure, sir. They barely put up a fight."

"Good." Germán stepped forward. "Bring ten of your best men and come with me. We have a lot of work to do." He led the captain to the back of the manor, the two of them disappearing down a hallway.

Josué looked at the manor lawn and felt a burning in his chest. "Does this do it for you?" He asked Felisa, eyebrow raised.

_Not really_ , she replied mentally.

_I know what you mean._ He looked out at the subdued guards, sitting silently along the wall. "It feels too easy. I guess I had hoped . . . ." But Josué couldn't put into words what he had hoped.

You had hoped they would have put up more of a fight?

Josué nodded. _I think so._

_I agree. It's too good for Ormand_. The fire in her thought matched the intensity in his heart.

_Compared to what they did to your village and my family_. _I had hoped for more of a reckoning_. Josué scratched his head. _Perhaps that's why Dominicci had planned his attack for when Ormand was here._

***

When the last guard was secured, Josué led his men to the top of the hill along the road to the Trevino Manor and waited. He looked down at Ormand's complex and tried to remember – then tried to forget.

"It is a good first step." Felisa put her hands on her hips.

"Perhaps there will be more when we see Ormand face to face." Josué turned to look at her.

Germán, Gurion, and ten men made their way up the road from the manor. The rising sun painted the grounds in silent hues.

Germán and his group led a last captive in their midst. Josué recognized the portly build of Melanion.

"Well met, Master Trevino," Melanion said as he walked past Josué.

Josué fought down the feeling of pride conjured up by the man's words.

Gurion pushed Melanion over to join the group of captives on the hill.

"Here you go." Germán held out a box.

"What is it?"

"Push the button on that detonator and you'll level the entire compound." Germán smiled. "They had enough explosives down there to bury these mountains."

Before Josué could reach for it, Felisa grabbed the device. "All I have to do is press?"

Josué squared his shoulders. Germán nodded. Her fingernail turned white against the outline of the button.

Three heads turned toward the compound, but nothing happened.

Josué looked at Felisa. Felisa looked at Germán. The big man shrugged and took a step toward the compound. Then the air snapped. Lightening flashed from the corners of the buildings. A rolling boom echoed across the valley. Germán jumped back.

The manor buildings crumbled as if a giant, invisible hand pressed them into the ground. A long, low rumble shook the path. Billowing clouds rose from the falling buildings, growing as tall as the mountains before enveloping them.

When the haze cleared, a dark crater was all that was left of the manor compound.

Chapter 8, Felisa

The triceratops stopped under Josué. The jungle seemed unusually silent.

"Why here?" He kicked the beast in the side, not even sure that was the right way to command it.

The triceratops shuddered, shaking its head from side to side.

Turning in his seat, Josué noticed the entire column of ceratopsids had halted. A chill ran down his spine. _What is it?_ He looked at Felisa.

_They sense something coming_.

Through the trees Josué saw the marsh. On the far end of the watery plain the mine entrance marking the line between Trevino and Omri property winked at him through the foliage like a large, vacant eye.

Josué tried to catch Germán's gaze, but the big man searched the sky.

_Do you hear that?_ Felisa asked.

"They're coming." Germán pulled his blaster out and laid it across his leg.

"Galactic warriors." Josué looked at Germán. "Did you rearm the men with blasters?"

"As many as we could find. They didn't keep as large of a stockpile as I'd hoped."

Edging toward the dry creek bed running the length of the trail within the protection of the jungle canopy, Josué got off of his mount. The sound of the jets grew louder. "Get the men into the creek," he told Germán and Felisa. "Let's hope they don't see us."

The command passed down to the captains. Men scrambled off their mounts and jumped into the leaf-strewn bank.

Josué held his breath, hoping it would be a routine scouting party. Glancing along the line of soldiers he waved at Felisa in the center. Germán walked confidently to his position in the rear. As the big man crouched, the noise of the jets shook the ground in a roar so loud it could only mean they had landed.

_How did they find us?_ Josué asked Felisa.

Her eyes found his. _Someone must have a beacon!_

Kicking himself, he determined to search the captives when this was over.

A large flame lit the jungle like a miniature sun along the border of the marsh, moving back and forth along the tree line. A wave of heat struck Josué in the face. Black smoke filled the trees above.

"They're burning the jungle away!" a native man cried.

A triceratops stomped the ground and shook its horns in a circle. Josué tried to think thoughts of peace at the animal, but either he didn't have a good enough link or he wasn't projecting the right kind of thoughts. Before he could do anything to stop it, the beast gave a deep snort and barreled into the black smoke.

" _No!"_ Josué shouted.

A loud grunt, a laze blast and an ear-piercing squeal echoed through the jungle. The entire line of soldiers stood to their feet. Josué could see it on their faces and feel it in his own heart. The sound of a dinosaur suffering grated against the native ear.

He pulled his voice weapon from its holster and checked his mouth piece, searching down the line for Germán. The battle-hardened settler remained kneeling, peering into the jungle.

The look of determination on Germán's face filled Josué with resolve. They had to think of the men, not the beasts.

Another triceratops grunted and stomped the ground. There would be more charging if he didn't do something.

_Steady_ , Josué thought at the dinosaurs and the men, but he was sure he wasn't getting through to either of them.

Another animal charged into the flame. More crunching noises followed by laser fire and another heart-wrenching squeal filled the jungle.

Then Josué caught sight of Felisa. She stood perched on the top of the creek, her over-sized blaster at her shoulder.

Waving her back into the trench, he cursed under his breath. She didn't see him. Defiant, she searched the trees.

He was sure the trench was the place to fight. How could he make them see that? The concealment and protection of the bank would give them the advantage they needed.

"Hold your positions!" he shouted along the line, but no one looked at him. Every eye was riveted on the battle-tech torch, shining through the trees like a flaming sun. A stab of doubt pierced his heart. The smoke was getting close.

Another triceratops stomped, snorted and disappeared into the smoke. This time a group of Josué's men went with it.

Through the haze, Josué caught sight of Felisa's at their lead.

" _No!_ _Stop!"_ Josué shouted. His voice echoed back flat and ineffective. Pulling at his hair, he eyed Germán then the men still in the trench. A black finger of smoke curled around his face, forcing a cough. This was the time for action. He had to back up those who were attacking, prevent as many deaths as he could.

Reluctantly, he shouted the command, "Charge!" and left the bank's protection.

Smoke filled Josué's world. Laser blasts exploded into the ground beside him. A dinosaur squeal ripped through the confusion. Men shouted. The stench of burning flesh curled into his nostrils. He gagged and stumbled.

Abruptly, he found himself in a clearing. Blackened underbrush and withered trees lined the edge between jungle and scorched ground. A battle-tech warrior lay face-down in the marsh, a triceratops half-sprawled on top of him, its broken horn lifted toward the sky.

To Josué's left, a blue laze blast erupted beneath a tree. Only one non-battle-tech person had a blaster that color. He angled toward her.

Another blue bolt burst from beneath the tree just before an arc of flame lashed out with lightning quickness to engulf it. Josué jumped back from the heat.

"No!" he shouted, pointing his voice weapon at the flame-throwing battle-tech.

The weapon leapt in Josué's hand. A thousand ' _No's!'_ echoed from the barrel, sweeping through the clearing. The arm of flame rippled, smoothing into nothing. As the ripple hit the battle-tech warrior, its armor burst into a thousand pieces that rained over the marsh.

The heat of a laze blast passed over Josué's neck. Stepping forward, he aimed and shouted again. Another ripple vibrated through the air. More battle-tech armor blew across the field.

He ran to where he'd seen the last blue shot. Afraid of what he might find, he hesitated at a smoking branch. He heard a fizz-pop in his ear.

A soft moan came from the under branch. Then he saw her and ducked below the blackened leaves to kneel at her side. Steam rose from the ground around her.

His heart sank when he saw her face. It was blackened. Half her hair was gone. The flesh on her arm was blistered, raw in spots.

_Felisa!_ He lifted her shoulders and touched her cheek. It felt warm and encouragingly whole.

Her eyes opened. She looked at him and smiled. _You saved the dinosaurs_.

He nodded, unable to stop the tears.

She coughed, her face twisting into a grimace of pain. She closed her eyes and leaned into his chest. Josué held her there, her breath rattling like coins in a jar.

_Don't die, Felisa. Hang on._ He kissed her forehead, tears rolling down his cheeks, splashing on her arms, cleaning golden spots on her uniform.

"Give her to me," a voice behind him said.

Josué looked up. The woman from the quicksand stood in a clearing, her sharp eyes fixed on him.

"I can help her. Give her to me," she said again.

Josué searched her face. _Who are you? Where have you come from?_

"I can heal her, Josué."

Perhaps it was the way she said his name that peeled back the doubt he felt. Or maybe it was the way his life had changed when she had crossed his path the last time. He took another look at his battered friend then at the woman. He kissed Felisa's forehead, brushed what remained of her hair from her face and lifted her into the woman's arms.

The grey-cloaked lady carried Felisa to a green raptor sitting in the trees. Holding her close, she mounted and kicked it into action.

Josué turned to find Germán standing behind him. A wet streak lined the veteran leader's face. He placed a hand on Josué's shoulder.

All Josué felt was a dull, cold lump in his chest.

Chapter 9, The Video

Ormand sat in his penthouse overlooking the parliamentary building and thought through the events of the day. Opening session of government had gone well. It was the first official gathering with him sitting as 'Master Grandee.' He marveled how little difference the title had made. He had had the power for so long, the position was meaningless by now.

Ormand pulled a tobacco pouch from his parliamentary jacket and looked at Atlantos. The man seemed more intent than usual on the news feeds.

Ormand licked the edge of his cigarette paper and loaded it with the Omri mixture he planned to send to market next month. He smoothed the paper's seam with his fingers and pinched the ends, glancing at Atlantos. The man was studying a hologram of a large crater with more intensity than usual.

"What's that?"

"Omri Manor, Sire."

"He-he. I see you haven't lost your sense of humor through all of this."

"I should say, it _was_ Omri Manor. It's gone now," Atlantos clarified.

"Be serious. What _is_ that a picture of?"

"It's Omri Manor, or . . . what's left of it. It was destroyed today." Atlantos looked blankly at Ormand.

Ormand stood up then sat back down. He put his cigarette in his mouth then took it out. He craned to see the screen better then kicked the air. "Apolino! But, why would he destroy Omri manor?" Ormand sucked air through the cigarette, still not ready to light it. "Do you think he found out about Mr. Ciro?"

"No. This wasn't Apolino. Melanion sent a distress signal this afternoon, and Apolino's troops actually responded to it. He wouldn't have done that if he had destroyed the manor. No, it looks like Apolino tried to help."

"Melanion? He survived? Good." Ormand put a hand to his head. Atlantos was going way too fast for him. "Why would Apolino help?"

"I don't know. He sent a contingent of six battle-tech to investigate."

"Six! Sounds excessive."

"That's Apolino. Word is all six were trampled by ceratopsids when they tried to burn the jungle down."

Ormand scrunched his nose. " _Ceratopsids? Burn the jungle?"_ – Atlantos really wasn't making sense. Ormand put the unlit cigarette in his shirt pocket. He would need all his faculties to handle this one. "Go back to the part about Omri Manor being gone. How did _that_ happen?"

"Mudslide. Sinkhole. Or both. All I have is the picture you saw." Atlantos flipped to a different hologram. In it, several ceratopsids lay in a mangled heap of trampled battle-tech guards.

Ormand stood up and walked over to the balcony. He peered out at the city walls, squinting in the direction of the Manor, but it was too far and too dark to see anything. He turned back to Atlantos.

The dark-haired man sat with his arms and legs at angles, pulling on his bottom lip. His dumb stare irritated Ormand. "So. _Where_ is Melanion now?" Ormand asked.

Atlantos shrugged and looked up. His grey irises had all but swallowed his pupils.

"Why did Apolino's men use flame throwers?" Atlantos asked.

"Another off-topic question. Have you lost your mind? More importantly – what happened to Omri Manor!" Ormand tried not to yell, but he heard his voice echo through the hallway. "Who cares what happens to Apolino's men? So what if dinosaurs trampled them? Welcome to Sonora IV, Mr. Apolino. Teach your men not to startle the wildlife."

Atlantos nodded and turned back to the screen, a vacant expression on his face. "It doesn't sound like the Syndicate, but it could have been."

Just then Mr. Apolino's face appeared on Atlantos's holo-deck, his expression was grave with a slight twinge of accusation.

Ormand turned his back to the image. Apolino was the last person he wanted to talk to right now. He needed more information before dealing with this man.

"Good evening, gentlemen. I trust the night finds you well?"

Ormand tensed his shoulders. "And why shouldn't it?" He brushed a curl from his forehead and turned to glare at the screen, feeling for his cigarette.

"I wouldn't know. Perhaps you haven't heard? Six of my men gave their all in your defense, today."

Ormand turned away from Apolino's feigned look of grief. "So it wasn't a mudslide!" he said to Atlantos, pointing his cigarette at him, but Atlantos was still studying the stupid dinosaur image.

"Mudslide? Do mudslides ride on triceratopses and fire laser canons? No, it wasn't a mudslide." Apolino grinned.

Ormand gritted his teeth. He had betrayed ignorance, something he hated to do in front of Apolino. Ormand put the cigarette in his mouth and searched his pockets for a lighter. How hard would Apolino make this?

Apolino continued. "We assumed it was the Syndicate when we responded to the transmission. Then we saw their firepower. This is not something the Syndicate could pull off. Not unless they have made a recent dis _-cov-_ ery." Apolino drew out the word and paused. He looked at Ormand and Atlantos in turn as if to ask what they might know.

Ormand couldn't imagine what Apolino _thought_ they knew. It was obvious they _knew_ nothing. Ormand just stared at the man and tried not to growl.

"No, this wasn't the Syndicate. This was something different. It renders our armor useless. Watch this . . . it gets interesting towards the end." Apolino activated a holo-video.

The familiar Sonoran jungle appeared. The scene was of the marshlands. Battle-tech warriors stood in a loose semicircle around a clump of trees. The one in the front used a torch to burn back the jungle. Ormand saw the blink of a beacon just beyond the tree line.

All at once a triceratops broke through the trees. The warrior with the torch took the full brunt of the charge. He fell on his back and didn't get up. One of the others dispatched the beast then continued to torch the jungle.

Soon another dinosaur charged, laying the second warrior flat. Before long, more triceratopses burst from the jungle, this time laser blasts erupted from between the animals. Two guards were downed by a large blaster off to the right.

Then something happened in the video that made Ormand's blood chill. Atlantos squinted and scooted toward the video. Ormand leaned over the lanky man. A battle-tech warrior had just exploded all at once, fragments of his armor flying across the field. It had looked as if the man had been hit by some sort of high-speed ballistic. Then the camera shook as if hit by a similar blast and cut off.

Ormand looked at Atlantos, blinked his eyes and swallowed. "What do you make of it?"

"Nothing good." Atlantos' face was ashen.

Chapter 10, Trevino Manor

The shimmer of the obfuscator glimmered through the air above Josué, a vast umbrella of blur against the Sonoran evening sky. It had somehow survived Ormand's attack. Perhaps the Omri Family left it to hide the destruction from the rest of the Galaxy, or perhaps it had just been overlooked. Josué was glad it was there now to hide the reconstruction effort. It was one more way his father helped him from beyond the grave.

His hand brushed against the voice weapon at his side. If only he'd known its power earlier, things might have been different. "A game changer," Germán had called it, and it was – or would be from now on. He wondered if Felisa seen its effect, before . . . .

"She will survive." Elder John straightened his shoulders.

"I know." Josué took the man's words as an attempt to assure him. But he didn't feel assured. When he thought about it, all he felt was cold. Cold in his legs. Cold in his arms. And empty in his gut. That was when he didn't outright cry.

They walked over the bridge and along the pathway from the newly framed engineering building to the fresh foundation of the manor. The sun hung over the trees. "Your mother knows better than the rest of us how to heal her." The blue-robed elder paused in his step.

"My _Mother_?" Josué stopped.

"Thetis. Your mother. You gave Felisa to Thetis. We watched it through the link. I saw the entire battle."

"You mean the woman in the jungle was my mother?"

"I thought you knew. Surely the sacred sands have told you by now. You must have known."

_My mother!_ Perhaps he had known. Perhaps he had suppressed knowing. It made sense now that the elder had said it. "And she can heal Felisa?"

"Without a doubt. Thetis knows medicine none of our doctors know. You did right to give Felisa to her."

Josué continued to walk. His step felt a little lighter. He only wished he could have stayed just a little longer with Felisa, but time is critical with wounds and healing. There was nothing more he could have done.

John led him to a twisted piece of metal, rising like a leafless sapling from a muddy hole in the center of the house, framed in a concrete square. Chipped yellow paint clung to it, bringing back memories of Josué's last moments with Héctor – and his father. He looked away, blinking back a tear.

The bunker was more centered than Josué had realized, protected on all sides by as much of the manor as possible. He liked that. Anywhere he would walk within the new manor, he would be close to his father's final resting place.

John looked down at the square section. "We could rebuild the bunker, if you'd like."

Josué was sure, even if they rebuilt it, he would never find the wherewithal to use it. He couldn't think of a more fitting memorial to his father than to leave it the way it was. "Please, don't change a thing." He looked out at the perimeter of the compound. They had almost finished the walls. "Those will protect us."

"They will hold for the immediate need." John led Josué through the compound to the eastern hillside overlooking the manor. The shimmer of the obfuscator remained above them. A separate wall surrounded a new plot. He felt a sense of reverence as the Elder led him into the enclosure. In the last rays of the day sun, symmetric monuments reflected pink, planted in neat rows and columns along the hillside.

"We took the liberty of adding a memorial garden." John walked to the top of the hill, where a solitary statue stood apart from the others, reminding Josué of a General reviewing his troops.

"We re-buried everyone we found in the compound." John leaned his hand against the larger monument's solid white stone. "This is Héctor's."

Josué wiped his damp cheek. "It's perfect." He didn't know how to thank the Elder. Kneeling where he stood, he read, "Enrique Romano." Josué stood abruptly, placing his hands on his hips. The moment had been ruined. A fire burned in his breast at the very sight of the name. _Enrique_ – the one who had betrayed them all!

"He was just as much a victim as you were." John's voice interrupted his thoughts. "His mind was controlled by Ormand. He died doing what he could to protect those he loved."

Josué crossed his arms. "Hmm." He stepped around the other grave markers, wondering why everything around him seemed so blurry.

"Don't forget the weapon you carry." The elder looked firmly at him.

Josué stopped in front of Héctor's memorial and laid his hand on the white stone, hoping the trembling in his arms wouldn't show.

They stood on the hill a moment longer before John led the way back to the series of tents at the south end. Germán waited for them in the largest one.

"Garvin left word here." Germán sat up as they entered. "The blockade is in place. They won't let anything land on this planet without clearing it with you first."

"Good." Josué found a chair opposite the big man and sat. John took the seat next to him. A thin table stretched between them.

"He's had no problem with recruitment." Germán rested his arms on the table. "People from across the Galaxy have lined up for the cause. All he has to do is mention the name Trevino and they sign."

"Can we starve out Ormand and prevent Apolino from landing more troops?"

"Looks that way." Germán placed his hands behind his head and his feet on the table.

They sat there for a while, no one saying anything. Then Josué leaned forward and rested his elbow on the table. "I'd like to challenge Ormand."

"You mean formally?" Germán leaned in.

Josué nodded, pushing his chair back and cradling his hands behind his head.

"In front of Parliament?" Germán crossed his arms and placed his feet on the floor.

Josué nodded again. His gaze passed through the tent door and fell on the monument to Héctor. "We have fifty voice weapons. We'll test them this week. Our army outnumbers his, for now. If we give him more time, he can only grow stronger. It's the right moment to act."

"I'm just making sure you've thought it through." Germán rested his elbow on the table. Then the big man smiled a crooked smile. "There is just one more detail."

"What's that?"

"Can I be your Second?"

Chapter 11, The Wall

Josué shifted in his seat on the triceratops. From the protection of the jungle canopy he could see the entire city. The light of the night sun cast a long shadow against the mountains.

The dull hum of a seeker buzzed along the wall. Josué hoped Germán was right. The foliage didn't seem thick enough to keep them off its radar, but the robot flew past and he remembered to breathe.

Germán swung down from his mount. "How do you plan to get in there?"

"John showed me the layout of the city." Josué got off his dinosaur and concentrated on the ground. A holographic map appeared between them, something John had shown him how to do the night before. "There's a door. Against the mountains, over there." He pointed between the mountain and the wall. "It's just around that corner. Elder John said it's not monitored in any way. We can sneak in as soon as the night sun goes down."

"That's the wrong part of town, if you know what I mean. The elder may not have known about the Omri neighborhood on the other side of that gate." Germán stepped over to look at the real wall. The lines of his face were drawn.

Josué stepped next to Germán. "Do you have a better idea?"

Germán peered into the mountains. "I don't see any cover between here and there."

"Hopefully, with the absence of the Syndicate, things in the city have calmed?"

Germán chuckled. "Even if they have, we're still headed for trouble. You know as well as I do, Omri families fight each other. In an Omri neighborhood if they don't recognize you first, they shoot and ask questions later."

Josué chewed his lip and scoured the hillside. "Let's hope darkness will do the job."

When the night sun finally dropped below the horizon and the seeker finished its latest pass, Germán turned to him. "We might be able to find a different way into the city, tomorrow."

"We've come this far . . . ." Josué couldn't bear the thought of losing another day. "If we wait, Ormand may find out about the new Trevino Manor . . ."

"Alright. Here goes." Germán stepped out of the jungle and ran for the cover of the wall.

Josué followed, heart pounding. They skirted the wall to the corner facing the mountains then turned to sprint to the dark hollow of the door. Josué could just see its outline when a voice stopped him in his tracks. "Hold it right there."

Josué and Germán froze.

"Hands up," the voice commanded.

They obeyed.

A shape to Josué's right separated from the ridge, a large blaster slung over the man's shoulder. Another figure darted into plain view. This one held a blaster pointed directly at them.

Josué felt a strong grip pull his arm down and around. A tie-wrap dug into his wrists. A knock on the side of his head sent him forward and into darkness.

***

Josué opened his eyes. The stale smell of his own breath nauseated him. All he could see was the black, checkered pattern of burlap over his eyes. His nose itched.

Swallowing, he stretched his neck, feeling a tie wrap around his throat and trying not to vomit at the sensation.

Uneven rock jutted into his side. From the stiffness in his limbs he had been laying there a while. A crushing weight pushed against his back, making breathing more trouble than it should be. Josué guessed the weight was Germán, and from the sluggish way he moved, the man was still unconscious.

Fighting the panic rising in his chest, Josué managed to rock Germán to the side and successfully shrug him off. The tie-wrap dug into his wrists as he sat up, but the feeling of being free from Germán's crushing weight was enough to let him breathe easier.

He wedged his wrists apart, but the bonds were tight. A trick Héctor had taught him came to mind. Feeling for a sharp rock, he relaxed his shoulders and elbows. Bracing himself against Germán and pressing his palms to the floor, he gyrated his fingers. The edge of the wrap caught against a corner. Josué gave it a quick jerk. Half of it broke. He tried again then smiled as he rubbed his free wrists. An anxious second later, he had his hood off.

Glancing around the room, he said a quick prayer of thanks. In the half light of the cave, a guard sat propped against a stone wall. The man's head had fallen to the side. Snores escaped his bearded lips.

Josué snapped the ties on Germán's wrist and shook the big man awake.

Germán groaned.

"Shh!" Josué whispered. "There's a guard."

"How many?"

"Just the one. He's sleeping."

The big man ripped his hood off and rose without a sound. He took a step toward the guard, grabbed the man's gun and slammed the butt of it into his sleeping head.

A laze blast from the adjacent room hit the wall next to Germán, sending rock chips flying. The big man stepped to the side, raised his newly acquired blaster and returned fire. One shot later he waved for Josué to follow.

In the adjacent room the second guard lay sprawled across a large table.

"Let's hope these two didn't recognize you."

Josué agreed, glad he hadn't brought his voice weapon.

Germán led the way out into an early dusk. The gate the Elder had told him about stood opposite the valley, its opened doors seemed so close.

Josué hissed and threw himself behind a boulder. Black uniformed sicario were making their way across the valley. Ten men walked in a line, their heads down, blasters cradled in their arms.

"It looks like they called a welcoming party." Germán aimed and fired. Two men fell before the others ran for cover. Two more fell before they could jump behind a rock.

"It's going to be close." Germán ran for the gate.

Josué followed. He would have liked to have planned this out a little more, but Germán's surprise tactic seemed to be working.

As he passed near the body of one of the downed men, Germán plucked a gun from the ground and tossed it to Josué.

Josué caught it and covered the ridge with repeated blasts while Germán ran the rest of the way to the gate.

From the door's protection, Germán covered while Josué ran. Laser blasts pocked the ground and wall as they ducked into the city.

Chapter 12, Parliament

Josué sprinted after Germán as they dove for cover behind the next building. Sicario graffiti marked the walls.

The entrance to the underground was just one alley away. The big man ran into it, taking the stairs a landing at a time. Josué darted after him, careening into the wall on the way down and sliding to the bottom on his knees.

Josué caught up to his friend once they had gotten deeper into the tunnels. There was no sign anyone had followed them.

"They must not have recognized you."

"Maybe they were on their way to the fight at Southern Ops." Josué put his hands in his pockets.

"Then it was good we thinned down their ranks a little."

They walked in silence until Josué recognized a street name on one of the signs. "Don't forget we'll need vipers and parliamentary robes."

"I'm a step ahead of you." Germán paused at a corner then led him up a stairway into the open.

Josué recognized the hospital's familiar red-cross on the building in front of them. Germán led the way to the back entrance. They took the stairway to the seventh floor.

Out of breath, Josué stopped in front of a door at the end of the hallway. The sign over it read, "Dr. Pepe Aguillar."

"Is this the doctor who patched up our men after the sicario attack?"

Germán nodded and stepped inside. Josué followed.

They waited. And waited. Finally, Josué asked, "Are you sure he still works here? Maybe he left with the rest of the Syndicate."

"He's here. Pepe's the kind that will never leave this city. You'll like him." Germán leaned back in the doctor's chair, placing his feet one at a time on the desk.

Just then the door opened. A small-framed man with bright blue eyes and a white coat entered. Spectacles gave him a professorial look. A hint of grey highlighted his black curly hair.

The man took one look at Germán and whirled to close the door, throwing the lock. A smile framed his face when he turned around. Josué noticed laugh lines at the corner of his eyes.

"Germán. So good to see you again." Doctor Pepe held out both hands.

Germán stood and the two men embraced.

"So, what brings you here?" The doctor lifted his spectacles and eyed the dried blood at the corner of Germán's mouth.

Germán wiped at it and held his hand out to Josué. "This is Josué Trevino. He needs your help."

"Master Trevino." The doctor turned and grasped Josué's hand in both of his. They were cool and dry as sandpaper. "It is an honor. I knew your father. A man among men. How can I be of service to you?"

"We need vipers and clothes." Germán stared at the doctor's badge.

The doctor's smile never left his face. He nodded. "For the Master of the Trevino Family, nothing is too much."

"And for me. We'll both need parliamentary robes. We can pay."

"I wouldn't think of it. It will be my contribution." The doctor looked at Josué a moment then turned his attention back to Germán. "I'll be back. Stay in the office and don't open the door for anyone."

The doctor was gone as quickly as he had entered. They heard the door lock after him.

Josué eyed the comfortable looking couch along the wall. Germán sat back down in the doctor's chair. Tilting it, he returned his feet to the comfort of the desk. "I told you, you would like him."

"Dr. Aguillar is a very good man." Josué gave in to the urge to stretch out on the wide seat. Thoughts of Felisa filled his mind. She would be proud of the steps they were taking. _Don't give up_ , he said to her mentally and thought he heard a faint, _Don't_ you _give up,_ before he drifted into the softness of the cool leather.

***

Josué awoke to a pair of viper keys dropped onto his chest.

"Get dressed," Germán said.

He looked up. Parliamentary robes hung on the office door. The doctor must have come and gone while he slept. Josué wished he'd been awake to thank the man.

Getting up, he stepped into the sonic shower in the corner of the office. A couple of moments under it and he smelled and felt better. He couldn't remember the last time he'd been able to use a sonic shower. Water cleaned, but sonic waves could get to the dirt water molecules were too big to handle.

Josué took the parliamentary robe off the hanger and looked at his family crest. For the first time he noticed the green raptor curled between two pillars in the center of it. He decided to ask his mother about it when he saw her next.

On their way to the vipers, Josué thought through his plan. "So, tell me again. How are we going to get into the parliamentary chamber?"

"I have a connection with the guards in that building."

"What if your connection left with the Syndicate?"

"Dr. Aguillar was here, wasn't he?"

Two vipers sat waiting for them at the back entrance. Josué mounted his and kicked it into action. The familiar purr filled him with courage and energy. He was ready to face Ormand.

"Put your helmet on."

Josué looked at the back of the viper. A helmet complete with voice radio sat behind him on the seat. Josué put it on. "That way no one can see who we are."

"Right." Germán revved his engine.

A few turns and one stop later they found a place to park in the back of the parliamentary building. Josué looked up at the towering edifice, recognizing the skimmer bay on the seventeenth floor.

"That's where my dad and I entered the first time." He thought back to the fear and awe of that day. The place had seemed larger than life. Now any sense of the majestic was all gone. The realities of what he'd learned about the leading Families and their treachery had shattered it.

"You won't have that luxury this time. Welcome to the _real_ entrance."

Josué followed Germán into the truck bay. They entered through a hallway full of broken tiles. The smell of banana and coffee grounds made him gag. Ceiling tiles hung down. Wires stuck out through holes in the walls. The shouts of workers echoed through the dingy hallways.

Germán opened a thin door with scuff marks across it. A guard sat in an old chair, perched at on odd angle from the floor. The man practically lost his seat when he saw the robes on Germán and Josué.

"Hey, have you seen Guido?" Germán folded his arms, not showing any indication he noticed the guard's discomfort.

"No, but I can radio him," the guard said around a large bite of sandwich.

"Do that." Germán tapped his foot.

The man in the chair fumbled with his radio and keyed in a call code. He mumbled something over the receiver then shoved the rest of his sandwich in his mouth, grabbed some papers, and stepped hastily out of the room. The loud clatter of a garbage can being knocked over boomed from behind the closed door.

A few moments later a frazzled Guido entered.

"Holy – On my mother's grave! Germán is that you?" The man's smile looked genuine. "Francis said there was a _Parliamentarian_ looking for me. Where did you get those clothes?"

"Guido, I'd like you to meet _Master_ Josué Trevino." Josué couldn't help but notice how Germán liked to introduce him by his title.

"Jo-su-wow. I'd heard you were alive. Never thought I'd meet you. It _is_ an honor. Guido Salvo, at your service." Guido snapped to attention and bent his head in a curt bow.

"Guido, we need you to get the young Master and I up to Parliament – without being seen. Can you handle that for us?" Germán patted the guard on the shoulder.

"Sure. No problem. We have a lift. No one else uses it. It drops you off right into the lobby of Parliament. You'll be in past security, if that's what you mean."

Germán nodded his head. "Exactly. Lead the way."

More spoiled milk and rotten vegetable smells greeted them in the utility elevator. Ripped matting hung from broken studs. Josué tried not to touch anything as his stomach sank with the upward motion. They were at the seventeenth floor before his nerves could really set in.

Stepping out of the beat up doors and into the anteroom, he glanced into the Parliamentary Chambers. A dark figure sat behind a large podium at the front, catching Josué's attention like a magnet. A black mop of curly hair hung over the man's forehead. Pudgy cheeks and stubble punctuated an unforgettable jaw. Looking at the coal-pit eyes of Ormand Omri, Josué clenched his fists.

Chapter 13, The Challenge

There is just one life for each of us: our own.

Trevino Family Proverb

Josué pushed open the back doors and entered the room. Germán followed behind him.

The afternoon sun shone through a wall of tinted glass, casting shadows of desks and men across the floor. Twenty-eight masters of the ruling families sat in concentric semi-circles around Ormand's bench.

A trickle of sweat made its way down Josué's arm. The clump of his boots echoed on the hardwood floor. An awkward silence fell over the boisterous room from back to front as his steps took him closer to the Ormand. The man at the front, who had been addressing the chair, turned to look at Josué. He mumbled his final words as he sank to his seat, eyes flickering between Ormand and Josué.

Josué kept his focus on the large man sitting at the front of the room, his father's killer. The man's expression passed from confusion to comprehension to hatred.

Ormand shifted in his seat and folded his arms across his chest.

When Josué had reached the front of the room, he turned to face the assembly. Keeping his voice calm and steady, he said, "The Trevino Family rises to a question of privilege."

"The Trevino Family no longer exists," Ormand barked out behind him.

"On what grounds would you assert this, since you are currently without a manor and therefore are _not_ a Family either?" Josué half-looked over his shoulder.

Ormand remained silent.

"Point of order." A tired and thin Guy Dominicci rose from his chair and addressed the council. "The Trevino Family is represented this day by its surviving heir. I move that the floor recognize Master Trevino and hear his petition."

A general murmur of agreement rose from the members of the council.

Dominicci smiled at Josué and nodded. "You may continue." He sat down.

Josué pulled a glove from his waistband, sliding it through his fingers. "I would like the witness of this dignified assembly in a matter of honor. As the surviving heir of the Trevino Family, I, Josué Trevino, demand satisfaction from the Omri Family." Josué turned to look Ormand in the eye and threw his glove at the large man as he said the word 'satisfaction.' It hit Ormand square in his chest before falling into his lap.

Ormand shot to his feet, his mouth agape. Looking down at the glove, his cheeks turned a rosy red. His lips curled back into a snarl. He half-growled, half-shouted, "Challenge accepted! Name your terms."

Josué paused. Technically, Ormand should be the one to name the terms. Josué had issued the challenge. He shrugged, knowing very well Ormand would never honor the terms. "On the field of battle, within one week. Your army against mine."

"Very well!" Ormand leaned over the bench. "I will relish finishing the job I started months ago – burying your family beneath the surface of Sonora IV!"

Josué smiled at the pulsing vein on Ormand's forehead. The redness in his cheeks had spread down to dark spots against his pale, chubby neck. Ormand's mustache lifted and fell with the heaves of his chest.

Josué spun on his heels and strode out of the chamber. Germán followed. They took the official elevator down to the first floor, the one reserved for Parliamentarians. The marble walls and golden-edged mirrors in the lift were a luxury Josué felt he'd just earned.

Looking in the mirror, Josué smiled. The resemblance to his father was unmistakable when he wore the robe.

"Good show. I thought the man was going to burst his head right then and there." Germán's eyes glinted with pride.

"I guess he thought he was being intimidating." Josué laughed. His cheeks ached from the smile pasted there.

"You got to him. Guys like that can't take it when people stand up to them."

"He won't take it sitting, that's for sure. We've got a race ahead of us." A chill went down Josué's back at the thought.

Downstairs, Josué mounted the doctor's viper. Germán took both his and Josué's outer robes, rolled them into a ball and threw them into the sewer before mounting his viper. They would ride in their white shirts emblazoned with the Trevino crest in the center. Josué looked down at it, rubbing the green raptor for good luck.

The two men kicked their engines into action at the same moment. When they were through the city gates, Josué opened his throttle and watched the scenery blur around him. Within seconds they had crossed the valley and were under the safe cover of jungle canopy.

"Now, if things will just go as planned," Josué said.

Germán nodded his head beside him.

"These are excellent vipers the good Doctor secured for us," Josué said over the intercom. "I could start to like flying with a helmet. Keeps the wind out of my eyes. And, I think these vipers out-perform the ones I grew up with."

He could see his reflection in Germán's visor. "They ought to. Dr. Aguillar could have bought us another blockade ship for the price he paid for them."

Josué imagined a smile hidden behind the tinted glass.

The sound of jet-fire pieced the noise of their vipers. "Do you hear that?"

"They were faster than I thought they would be." Germán gunned his engine.

Josué sped up. "Can they get us under these trees?"

"Only if . . . ," Germán started to say, but he was cut off by a loud, persistent beeping in Josué's helmet.

He checked his gauges. "What's that?"

"They're locked on us. Bail!" Germán yelled over the intercom. The big man jumped off his viper next to Josué with a heavy grunt. Josué jumped backward, rolled and sat up in time to see two cloudy-white missile tails snake over his head. Angling through the trees, they intercepted the rider-less vipers in two separate balls of fire. The roar of the jet above them dimmed. The jungle fell silent.

"They left." Josué cocked his ear. The chatter of monkeys and buzz of insects was all he could hear.

Germán's eyes searched the tree tops in the waning light, blaster raised. "They know where we are. They'll be back." Germán put his blaster in its holster, took off his helmet and threw it into the bush.

Josué did the same and looked at his friend. They were miles from the rendezvous point. It would take at least an hour to walk there. Making them _very_ late.

Germán leaned against a tree. "Do you have any triceratopses handy? There's no telling how soon Ormand and his men will close in on us."

A low growl came from the bush behind the big man. Germán spun around, blaster raised. Josué followed his gaze. The piercing eyes of a raptor glinted from beneath an elephant leaf.

Josué and Germán stepped back in unison. The beast crawled out, its head waving side to side. Another, smaller one crawled out beside the first.

The four of them stood in the clearing, locked in uncertainty. The raptors looked at them, mouths closed. Curiosity took the place of the usual ferocity on their faces.

Finally the smaller raptor walked over to Josué and pressed its nose against his foot. Josué's vision turned golden. "They're here for us."

"Uh – _No!_ " Germán stepped backward. "I said _triceratops_. You aren't getting me on one of those things. I'd _really_ rather walk."

"Suit yourself." Josué jumped onto its back. The animal trotted around the clearing in a circle as if getting used to his weight.

"Come on." He pointed at the larger raptor waiting in front of his friend. "They're actually more comfortable than a triceratops." The animal ran in a tight circle and stretched its neck. "And agile."

Germán looked at Josué; clearly impressed he hadn't become dinner. He looked at the larger beast and took a step toward it. The animal bowed its head and sniffed Germán's shoe. Germán hesitated then swung his leg over its back.

They were off the next second. The raptors were twice as fast as the bulky triceratopses and silent. Josué marveled at the beast's sleek movement as they passed like the wind around trees and over gullies. He hardly felt a bump when the animal leapt over a part of the river.

Josué saw the marshland through the trees. The rendezvous point was close. They jumped over a fallen tree. Mid hurdle, a blinding bolt passed through the beast's neck and slammed into Josué's chest. The thunder of a laze blast filled his ears as he fell forward.

Lying in a pile of leaves, Josué looked up. He felt tenderly at his chest. It was hot, but whole. His shirt had burned away just below the crest, revealing very red skin.

The next moment, the shadow of Germán rose over him. The man aimed his blaster and returned fire. With a satisfied look he held out a hand to Josué.

"Come on, there's going to be more of them. Ride at my back."

Germán's strong arm lifted him to his feet. Josué swung around and landed on the back of the raptor, very disoriented.

Chapter 14, Grandee

The beast struggled under their combined weight. _One more mile_ , Josué thought at it.

The raptor grunted and seemed to run faster.

The broken-down wall between Trevino and Omri properties lay on the horizon like the backbone of an ancient one. The rendezvous point!

Another blaster shot echoed through the trees. Josué's stomach lurched as he fell forward to land on top of Germán and the dead raptor, his hand splashing red goo pooling rapidly.

"Get up!" the mechanized voice of an Omri trooper ordered.

Josué raised his arms above his head and rose to his feet slowly. He glanced down at Germán. The man peered at him through an eye-slit. A slight nod brought Josué's attention to the man's hands. He clutched what looked like a perfect long staff of bamboo. Another broken staff lay across Josué's foot.

Josué jerked to the side, kicked the staff into his hands and leapt high, using the stick as a lever. A laze blast cut through the air where he'd stood the second before. He landed on the trooper's arm, knocking the blaster away.

Germán exploded from the ground in a flurry of motion like Hector re-incarnate. With a swift movement, he brought his staff across the head of the trooper. The man crumpled to the ground.

Josué bent over to retrieve the blaster and felt the heat of a laze blast against his back. He dove behind the fallen raptor. Germán joined him just as a blanket of laser fire lit the woods.

Josué peered into the darkening trees. "How many do you count?" Shadows of legs marched through the underbrush. To Josué, it looked like an entire platoon.

"Too many!" Germán returned fire.

Josué's eyesight turned yellow. The deep throated roar of a dinosaur rumbled over the popping laze blasts.

In the blinking lights, Josué saw the flick of a tail and a blur of movement. He heard a scream and a crunch.

"Can you summon anymore?" Germán took aim at an Omri soldier, laying him flat.

Josué gripped his blaster and covered the flank. His aim wasn't as good as Germán's, but he managed to knock at least one Omri soldier on his back.

Through the trees, a battle skimmer stopped over the marsh. Omri soldiers were packed into it like matchsticks. Josué's heart sunk when two more skimmers pulled behind the first. Ormand's army had arrived.

A larger skimmer came up behind the first three, broke from the group and circled into the jungle where Josué and Germán lay against the dead raptor. The laser fire ceased when the vehicle entered the enclosure. The jungle became silent. Josué and Germán held their fire as two troopers walked up to them, took their blasters and dragged them to their feet.

In the fading light of day, Josué saw Ormand's round silhouette at the helm. His sneering laughter echoed through the trees like the cackle of a madman. "Your army against mine, eh Josué? Well, I've brought my army. Where's yours?" Ormand's face glowed from the railing.

"Oh – did you need a week to pull one together? How many of your pitiful Syndicate friends were you planning to pay with dirty promises of Trevino wine?" Ormand kicked the door open. "Or would it just have been the _two_ of you?" Ormand stepped with majestic exaggeration down the steps.

Josué watched and waited. His fingers turned cold in the trooper's vice-like grip. He eyed the property line, unable to believe how close they had come. Less than a mile and _they_ would have been the ones springing the trap.

Ormand wore the same tiger-striped jacket Josué remembered from the night of the Trevino raid. It swung around the man's legs as he covered the distance between them.

"Oh, you left something behind at Parliament." With another laugh, Ormand produced Josué's glove from his pocket. He lifted it to the boy's mouth and paused. "Any last words, _Master_ Trevino?" An amused smile played on his lips. "And to think you were the youngest and probably the shortest-lived Master of a Sonoran Family – ever. We're making history here."

Josué strained against the guard. If Ormand took one more step, he might be able to butt the man in the head or spit in his face. Anything would be better than standing like a pig on a spit.

"I should have killed you when I killed your father!" Ormand shouted in his face. "But I gave in to the pitiful pleas of your grandfather!" He paused and smiled. "And to think, in the end, all three of you will die like the fools you always were."

Ormand grabbed Josué jaw, yanked it open and shoved the glove into his mouth. He slapped the boy with a backhand, knocking his head to the side.

The iron taste of blood dripped down his throat. Josué fought the feeling of panic and tried not to gag. The guard's strong arms pulled him back to face Ormand.

He stared into the hateful eyes of the large man. If he could just reach with his foot, he might be able to land a kick before he died.

Ormand held up a wicked looking knife and smiled with glee. "Say your goodbye's, boy."

Josué braced for the pain, not sure if it would be his chest or his throat. He wondered how long he would remain conscious. Would he be forced to look into this wicked man's eyes as he breathed his last?

But Ormand just stood there, his head to the side, listening. The large man's eyes searched the tree line along the marsh.

Then Josué heard it too. It began with a whisper then increased to the volume of a thousand shouts. Something crashed through the clearing with the force of an ocean wave, punctuated by the sound of splintering wood and crushing metal. An Omri skimmers loaded with men flew to pieces.

The noise came again. Another skimmer blew apart. Multiple noises came at once. With each noise, a skimmer burst into pieces taking fifty men into oblivion.

The guard's grip relaxed enough for Josué to rip his arm free. Throwing it up and back, his elbow connected with the trooper's throat.

Thrusting forward and down, he aimed a chop Héctor would have been proud of at Ormand's neck. It connected with a satisfying thump, but left Josué wishing he'd thrown it harder. The large man rolled his eyes upward, dropped his knife and collapsed.

Josué brought his forearm back into the guard's face, knocking him to the ground. With a spin and a kick, Germán's guard fell where he stood. Josué ripped the glove out of his mouth and threw it on Ormand.

_Get down, Josué._ The Elder John's command came to him mentally.

Josué yanked Germán down by the shirt sleeve.

Laser fire erupted around them. In a matter of seconds, the jungle was empty of all but dead Omri soldiers, their bodies steaming with laser holes.

Josué and Germán stood to their feet and looked down at the spot where Ormand had fallen. "Where'd he go?"

Germán looked at Josué then at the woods behind them.

The high pitched whine of a hover bike flying at top speed buzzed over the stillness of the battle field. Josué caught sight of a laughing Ormand clutching viper handlebars, his tiger coat trailing in the wind. Then he arched into the jungle and disappeared.

"Where'd he get a viper?"

Germán shrugged.

Epilogue

Thetis sped through the underbrush as fast as her raptor would take her. Its neck glowed bright green against the dark leaves brushing her legs. She felt tears in the corners of her eyes. Her Josué had survived!

She had watched and yes, had even tried to help. As she'd hoped, Elder John had advanced his troops in time to overtake Ormand. It had been a rout.

Thetis smiled. Her son's plan had come together in spite of it all. She wiped her cheek.

Felisa will be happy to hear, she told herself. The girl had looked so healthy that morning, her eyes glowing with renewed life. The skin on her face was back to a proper native hue. Jungle sleep had brought it back. And, she would be ready for her second anointing soon.

Thetis raised an eyebrow. She would miss having the girl around. Thetis's brother, Elder John, had asked to adopt her. The look of excitement in Felisa's eyes at the suggestion confirmed it would be the right choice.

John had also offered to take care of Josué, but that had been only a gesture. Everyone knew the work of the sacred sands in her son. It was unmistakable. He would play the part of a man and live in Trevino Manor. His leadership would bloom in the coming years. The war with Ormand would be nothing in comparison with what he would do next.

She thought about how he would change Parliament. With the title, 'Master, Grandee,' things would be different. He would give the natives a voice. He would confront the scourge of galactic self-interest personified by Apolino. Under Josué, Sonora IV would prosper.

Thetis smiled. Her other patient would be awake soon. The sands assured her of his survival. It would take time, but she wasn't in a hurry.

The rescue had been the most difficult part for Porfirio. Thetis remembered the day she insisted Enrique build an escape tunnel into the bunker. At the time she hadn't known why she had made the request. Enrique did it as a special favor to her. It had been built behind the control room holographic wall. Even that detail had worked out.

Porfirio lived, and that was what Josué needed. Though, if Thetis were honest, it was what she needed too.

Had she done right? She had done what she could – nothing more. She found herself as much a victim as Enrique. The sands had used her anger, she could see that now. How else could Josué have learned what he had? And he _had_ learned it so well.

Was she happy? She had what she needed. She saw her husband with a new understanding. She knew how he felt about her, and found she was flattered by it. _Divine, indeed!_

She goaded her raptor on and ducked under a branch, angling toward the viper's steady whine.

***

The cry of a raptor rose and fell alongside Ormand's viper. Ormand drew his blaster and fired into the jungle. The light of the bolt revealed nothing more than roots and leaves. He shook himself. His nerves must be playing tricks on him. It felt like the beast had been following him. Ormand shuddered. Raptors didn't chase vipers, everyone knew that. He was letting his imagination get the better of him. Considering the circumstances, that didn't surprise him.

Ormand would fly back to the city, find Atlantos and tell him about the battle. They would get their hands on Josué's weapon as soon as possible. He had mistakenly assumed it was destroyed in the missile strike on Hernan's jail cell. But it had survived in spite of Apolino's haste!

Everything Hernan had said about the weapon was true. Ormand would get it and use it to bring Apolino to his knees. He smiled at the things he could do with the power of Porfirio's invention.

Ormand had to admit he had been lax. Sitting as 'Master, Grandee' had made him lazy. He would handle Josué and the Syndicate the way he should have from the beginning. Apolino had simply gotten in the way. It had cost Ormand, but he would start again with renewed vigor.

The raptor's growl sounded closer this time. How many raptors were on this trail? Ormand thought he saw a flick of a tail between the leaves. He fired.

Something bumped him from behind. He turned and fired again.

The viper's tail fin exploded, blowing sparks. The machine bucked and spun, slamming into the ground.

Ormand cursed and picked himself up from the mud. Kneeling there, he breathed heavily before kicking the fallen machine.

Feet slapped the mud to his left. Ormand wheeled toward the noise and fired his blaster. "Give up, beast!"

Another noise startled him to his right. He whipped his blaster around and fired again and again, but all he saw was empty jungle.

Ormand lifted the viper to a sitting position and tried to start it. It purred into life, but before he could rev the engine to take off, a whip-like tail knocked him backward. He fell off his seat and landed on his back in the damp mud.

His blaster landed under a large elephant leaf. A bug chirruped in his ear. He brushed at it and reached for his weapon. _How he hated the jungle._

With the familiar handle of the blaster in his fist, he straightened, sat up and turned in time to see the gaping jaws of a bright green raptor fill his view. Ormand shrieked.

About G. F. Hellstern

G. F. Hellstern is a professional in the Aerospace Industry where he builds future concepts for air and space platforms. He has served in the Air Force and enjoys writing and thinking up new ideas through fiction.

