Chapter Seven: Io

A Chapter by Henry

Plans twist upon others when the Saturanians scout out Io, are faced by an ambush, and must survive freak natural disasters.

7: Io

“Water! I must have water!” proclaimed Yipfnikh, the rather naïve and immature scholar.

“Shut up,” growled his companion, the reliable war leader Fxqulgankorjj. “I’ve told you twice we’re rationing the water out so we have enough to make it a good way into the dunes and back. The time for the first draught isn’t until dusk, a good three or four hours off, so you might as well stop whining. You’re wasting your saliva. Anyway, I’m not telling you again. Next time I’m tying you up and hauling you back to camp.”

Yipfnikh glared sullenly at his traveling partner as they continued on through the seemingly endless dunes of Io. The sun beat down on them, due to the thinness of the atmosphere overhead, so thin it was virtually nonexistent, despite the fact that not ten miles away was a thick forest covered by a much, much denser atmosphere. The moon obviously didn’t follow the normal rules for celestial bodies, at least in the Milky Way. But, of course, there was nothing the Saturanians could do about that, so they had to simply accept that fact and cope with it.

That they did, walking silently for thirty minutes, an hour, an hour and a half, Fxqulgankorjj thanking no one or thing in particular, but thanking nonetheless, every minute Yipfnikh gave no complaint on their present condition, position, or situation.

Then they heard it.

The noise level went from the utter silence Fxqulgankorjj enjoyed so much to a deafening roar in a split second. Simultaneously, a massive whirlwind appeared from thin air perhaps half a mile ahead of them. Evidently the rumors about Io’s devastating natural disasters were true.

“RUN!!!” Fxqulgankorjj screamed at a stentorian volume, making his best attempt to be heard over the horribly howling winds. Not waiting to see if his traveling companion took his advice, the hardened general took off at what would probably be considered a ground-covering pace for a horse, much less a hominid. The man was in astounding shape, but even he couldn’t keep up such a pace for long. A few minutes later, he decreased his speed to something more associated with two-legged creatures.

It was then that he thought of Yipfnikh, who surely couldn’t have kept up with such a pace as Fxqulgankorjj set for any amount of time, and quickly looked over his shoulder to search for the scholar. He saw no sign of Yipfnikh, but could not afford any time to search for him. The war leader had to keep as fast a pace as he could or he himself would be swallowed up by the cyclone, without a chance to warn the others of the dangers of this place. So, taking his mind from the probably dead Yipfnikh, Fxqulgankorjj continued on as fast as his legs would bring him over the twenty or so miles the two Saturanians had covered that day.

After about fourteen miles, those legs collapsed, bringing him to the ground. Unwilling to give in to the whirlwind, however, he propelled his body forward using just the strength of his arms, making his way through the scalding sand much more slowly but still managing to accomplish the feat. The Saturanian was strong in both body and will, the reason why he had come so high in the army. He would not leave life without a long, desperate battle, however long and desperate it might be come. He was, for lack of a better word, a fighter.

However, the strength of his arms eventually left him, too, a drain caused by dragging the hulking shell around his soul--his body--for so long. Two and a half miles from the field where the Saturanians had made their camp and about three-fourths of a mile from the disaster threatening to swallow him up, Fxqulgankorjj lay on an uneven bed of sand, all of his limbs thoroughly depleted of energy, his lungs crying out for air. Sucking in great gusts of it, he prepared his diaphragm, one of the only muscles he hadn’t depleted, for a great outcry.

Sucking in one more gust of the searing, waterless air, he expelled it all from his body for three syllables. “BRING RUNNER!!!” was his extraordinarily loud cry.

Then, there was nothing more he could do to escape from the whirlwind. Continuing to devour the hot, dry air, Fxqulgankorjj lay atop the barren earth of the wasteland which surrounded him as the potentially fatal whirlwind drew steadily nearer.

In the large green field that stands ‘twixt all else on that legendary moon, the namesake of which was she who always shall be remembered, the maiden who had the misfortune to be changed into a cow--it was on that fabled celestial body orbiting the celebrated Jupiter, on Io, the moon the cow always jumps over, in that field placed exactly in the midst of its land, that Qualayariavasch, Major-General of the troops gathered there, heard the cry of his comrade, his fellow commander, Fxqulgankorjj, from the dunes, from whence he had already seen the deadly whirlwind, which, given the words and the volume of his friend’s outcry, was probably soon to be upon his noble ally.

Briefly pondering the situation, Qualayariavasch decided he would bring the man a runner as quickly as he could--aside from the fact that Fxqulgankorjj was his good friend, the man was valuable as a soldier as well as for any information he might have about the origin of the whirlwind. Fxqulgankorjj might just be needed alive for the Saturanians as a whole to avoid excessive casualties during their stay on Io.

Quickly concluding his pondering session, Qualayariavasch pulled out his radio and requested the best runner, Ualivantiscar, be brought out to him; nearly all the people had returned to the ships, as Qualayariavasch had ordered as soon as the whirlwind had appeared. Even as he made the request (which, all things told, was really an order) for the runner, so he could attempt to save his friend’s life, he thought of something critical. The four who had gone out should all have brought along the two-way radios they had been given. With this in mind, Qualayariavasch immediately pressed down the button used to communicate with other two-way radios, as opposed to that he had just been using, which sent messages to the one-way speakers and radios within the ships.

“Fxqulgankorjj. Fxqulgankorjj or Yipfnikh. Please respond if you are able. Please tell me what your situation is. Qualayariavasch over.”

Heart racing, the veteran waited for the seconds to elapse, hoping desperately with every one that passed that he would hear something, anything, that would help him with--or even supply him with hope about--his old friend, his Fxqulgankorjj. Five passed, then ten (he wondered how the seconds could feel so much like hours), and, when he thought perhaps thirty seconds had at last gone by, he let out all the breath he had been holding. Then, he forced himself to accept the fact that neither was going to reply. It didn’t work. Again, utilizing more of his will power, as much as he could stand, he forced himself--and suddenly found his heart racing once more as static came over the radio he still held within his hand.

“Hey, Qualayariavasch? This is…Ubu. I don’t know the others’ whereabouts, but me and Wweliopaszukk could sure us your help down here. We--”

“Look, bud,” Wweliopaszukk cut in, “I’ve got a transporter in my room--it’s the only thing between the bed and the wall. Type in the coordinates, and it’ll take you wherever you want to go. It should already be set for Io, so don’t bother with that. Just try to figure out the coordinates of where you are, and then program it slightly west for us--”

“Wweliopaszukk! If you had told me about that earlier, you could have saved us a good deal of time,” Ubu interrupted. “All right, now, Qualayariavasch, listen closely. If I remember correctly, I think the surface of Io is about 1,021 times smaller than that of Saturn. Therefore, all you would need to do would be figure out the relative position of your destination here to wherever that is on Saturn, and divide by 1,021. For example, if we’re three miles away, that would be 3,063 miles or so between our relative positions--”

“All right, Ubu, wait,” said Wweliopaszukk. “I feel really stupid now, but I think the transporter has the coordinates of its current location already plugged in.”

“Okay, good. Qualayariavasch, what that means is you just enter an ever so slightly different coordinate in whatever direction you want to go. Just communicate with us again if you encounter any hazards. Ubu over.”

“Thank you, Ubu, Wweliopaszukk. Someone is bringing the transporter out to me now, so hopefully we’ll get to you shortly. Now, Wweliopaszukk, does the transporter travel with whoever uses it, or stay at its--”

“With,” the general cut in curtly. “Wweliopaszukk over and out.”

Qualayariavasch nodded to himself and put away the radio as he inspected the transporter which was now in front of him. The thing was large enough for a good-sized creature to pass horizontally through without incident and light enough to carry without being a burden, but of such an awkward shape and size that it would be immensely challenging for anyone to carry both it and something or someone else simultaneously. Therefore, three people would be needed, in case the transporter, Fxqulgankorjj, and Yipfnikh all needed to be carried somewhere safely away from the whirlwind in order to be transported back.

Looking at his surroundings, Qualayariavasch was happy to see there were already two people standing by the transporter: the person who had brought the transporter out to him and the runner he had ordered. Including him, that made three, just the right number for the task at hand. However, Qualayariavasch thought that he himself might be too valuable an asset to risk…but no one else was around, and time was of the essence more than he was. While he went into the line of fire just to protect to of a similar rank to him, they were much more important if they had any knowledge of the whirlwind, its origin, or how to avoid it. Thus, rescuing them must be made top priority.

All of this ran through Qualayariavasch’s mind in about fifteen seconds, after which he addressed the runner and the other Saturanian present. “All right guys, time is of the essence, so I won’t explain much, but we three will go into the dunes to try and rescue Fxqulgankorjj and Yipfnikh before the whirlwind hits them. Then--”

The major general was interrupted by a cry from out of the Jumble Hero. “Ambush! Ambush within the Jumble Hero! All troops ready and able report to the Hero immediately!”

The runner ran towards the ship as a response to that command. Qualayariavasch stopped him. “Runner! This is more important right now, and as Major General, I the highest authority giving orders--the highest authority who possibly could have made the command about reporting to the Hero is Jorkaliterun, and he is a mere Brigadier-General. You report to me.”

The other Saturanian didn’t try to run, just stood with a puzzled expression, speaking to himself. “I was just on the Hero looking for that transporter. How did the troops manage to be ambushed in so short a time?”

“All right, men,” Qualayariavasch interrupted, once the runner had returned. “The plan remains the same until we get back here, hopefully with Yipfnikh and Fxqulgankorjj. Right now, we all need to memorize our current coordinates so we won’t forget how to return. Let’s focus on that for perhaps thirty seconds, a minute if necessary…”

The sun was bright in the sky as Qualayariavasch continued on. It was a beautiful day.

The sun shone over Io’s verdant forest, too, but the myriad of treetops prevented much of its light from reaching the ground, where Ubu and Wweliopaszukk continued to run from the massive beast they had encountered earlier. Both were frightened, and though it was no longer to the point of desperation, it was still more than sufficient to put them on edge.

“I wish you had told me about that transporter before,” Ubu told the general. “We could have contacted Qualayariavasch and gotten ourselves out of here much sooner than we’re likely to do now.” The ambassador sounded slightly hurt.

“Well, I’m sorry,” Wweliopaszukk replied in a rather sardonic tone, “but I forgot. It’s not like the general of Saturn’s army sits around twiddling his thumbs. I’ve got something called duties, you fool. I know you may find the concept shocking, but some people actually work for a living.”

Ubu snorted with contempt. “I’m not going to acknowledge that with an answer.”

Wweliopaszukk smiled in response. “You just did, ambassador. By the way, does that title actually describe you, or is it just the kind of thing they give to busy-bodied nobles like yourself who sit around and get fed grapes all day?”

Ubu stared at him then, stared with a keen, perspective gaze, like those generally possessed by excruciatingly wise old teachers. A few moments later, that gaze still upon the general, Ubu spoke. “Wweliopaszukk, enough. If you wish is to fight, let’s be on with it. If your wish is to harm or kill me, let’s be on with it. If you wish none of those things, shut up and we’ll continue without distractions. Otherwise this will be the point we part our ways. Answer quickly, as I grow impatient.”

Wweliopaszukk stared back at Ubu’s still-staring eyes.

Then, a roar.

Whatever creature they had seen before had not chosen to stop pursuing them, not when they had run, and not when they had stupidly stopped to argue. And now it was here. Again.

Both Saturanians bolted, galvanized by the presence of the grotesque monster neither wanted to ever look upon again.

“Sorry,” Wweliopaszukk panted as they charged through the underbrush, rushing past scrubs and bushes full of yet unripe fruit. “I guess I wasn’t really thinking straight back there.” Dead needles from those trees ever green crunched underfoot as they sped on, heedless of what they encountered so long as it was not the beast pursuing them.

Ubu smiled in reply. Then, realizing that Wweliopaszukk would not be wasting his sight on looking at his fellow Saturanian, answered, “I don’t think either of us were truly thinking straight. From the monster to Qualayariavasch’s call to your sudden remembrance of that device…well, anyway, I guess I’d best not waste my breath. It’s forgiven, though.”

The general nodded and continued on wordlessly. The trek was still no strain on his body, but judging from Ubu’s short, labored breaths, his companion was no longer running down easy street. “Come on, ambassador!” Wweliopaszukk said in what he hoped was a heartening tone. “It can’t be too much longer. We’ll be out of these woods sooner than you know.”

In fact, Wweliopaszukk’s words proved to be very prophetic in nature, for not three seconds later, he fell into a pit, and a sound perhaps akin to a very large fish being gutted echoed through the forest.

Ubu stood over the pit, panting, and looked down to see what carnage had befallen below him. There he saw Wweliopaszukk impaled upon a sharpened wooden stake, with which the pit was covered. He was most definitely dead. Tears began to well within Ubu’s eyes, but before the could make it down his cheeks, a roar made him wheel around. His vision was filled with not one, but two of whatever the horrid creature was that had been pursuing them.

Angry beyond belief, Ubu drew his knife, furious with any monster which could lay so gruesome a trap. Steeling himself, he prepared to rush the one on the left.

Suddenly, the creature whom Ubu was about to attack spoke up. “<Don’t do anything rash. We are not enemies. The sad misfortune that came upon your friend wasn’t our fault or our intent. We only wanted to talk with you.>“

Ubu was taken aback; first of all, the monster had spoken in Venusian. He certainly didn’t expect that language coming up in Jupiter’s domain. And, of course, the subject matter of his words bewildered him all the more. He began his reply by putting the foremost of his questions into words. “<Then why didn’t you indicate this sooner?>“ he asked.

The creature smiled as well as it could. “<I was too startled by your presence at first, you must understand. You were as unfamiliar to me as I was to you, and you ran as soon as you saw me. Once I realized what you were, however…>” The creature continued, both its speech and expression friendly. Ubu realized that, despite the recent tragedy, these beings could not have a harmful intent towards him. They were allies. Everything would be all right in the end.

Qualayariavasch and the other two Saturanians fought against the tremendous force of wind pulling against them. They had been fortunate enough to arrive from the transporter within sight of Fxqulgankorjj. They had all rushed over to him as quickly as they could, not having to take many steps as the wind pulled them towards him. The runner had grabbed Fxqulgankorjj immediately, not pausing at all before asking him if Yipfnikh still lived.

Qualayariavasch watched and listened for the general’s answer, completely rapt. When Fxqulgankorjj slightly shook his head, Qualayariavasch cursed. Still, he had to count his blessings. They would have had a smaller chance of survival if they had had to take the time to find Yipfnikh as well. Wordlessly, he turned to the transporter and typed in the coordinates which he, the runner, and the transporter’s bearer had thoroughly ingrained into their minds. Filled with satisfaction that their dangerous task was nearly complete, Qualayariavasch beckoned to Ualivantiscar, the runner, who held the barely-conscious Fxqulgankorjj. “GO!!!”

He was surprised at how quickly his words were swallowed by the deafening sound of the wind, but Ualivantiscar still understood his meaning. He ran through the transporter, disappearing from sight.

Suddenly, a thought ran through Qualayariavasch’s head. He started panicking, and immediately beckoned the remaining Saturanian, he who had borne the transporter, close to him.

“How do you think the transporter works as to who it goes with?” he spoke into the man’s ear.

“It came with me when we got here, and I punched in the coordinates, so I think it would go with you this time.”

Qualayariavasch nodded, relieved as well as angry with himself for forgetting when it was crucial to be going. “All right, you go, and--” His voice was completely cut off as the Saturanian Major General was pulled into the cyclone.

The remaining Saturanian, whose name was Winsalthan, was horrified by this event, but, if anything, it only galvanized him to action. Winsalthan quickly ran through the transporter, upset that it could not be retrieved, but overjoyed that he could escape with his life.

When he emerged back into the field of his origin on Io, Winsalthan saw the runner already entering the Jumble Hero, which he now remembered had been ambushed soon before they left to rescue Fxqulgankorjj.

Speaking of whom, the lieutenant general was currently being carried across the field towards the southern end of the still, tranquil waters of the iridescent lake, far from the chaos of the heavily pernicious tornado and whatever fighting might still be going on within the confines of the massive Hero.

His thoughts now moving to that conflict, Winsalthan realized that he should probably join it as the runner had, seeing as help might still be needed. He didn’t want to, but, as a soldier, it was clearly his duty to. As he slowly made his way towards the ship’s entrance, a cry came from it. “Victory! WE HAVE VICTORY!!!”

Winsalthan smiled, glad that he hadn’t had to put his life on the line twice in the same day. At least, not yet. The way this day was going, there could easily be another such instance for him to prove his worth. Still, he could revel in the moment. Life wasn’t worth it if you had to go about worrying all the time.

Well, Winsalthan’s feelings aside, a great mass of soldiers soon began pouring out of the Jumble Hero, followed eventually by he who had led the victorious troops, the brigadier general, Jorkaliterun. Winsalthan realized he still didn’t know what ambushed the troops or how the creatures did so from the confines of the Hero. Hopefully, he would find out shortly, for it looked as if Jorkaliterun was about to make a speech.

Sure enough, the brigadier general began speaking a few moments later, his voice reverberating throughout the field, obviously amplified by a very efficient sound system, even by Saturanian standards, which easily put those of Earth to shame. This was certainly a man who wanted to be heard.

“Saturanians, I shall commence by congratulating you. Every last one of you who participated in the battle which occurred today is worthy of honor. Even those of you who were either unable to make it in time or unable to fit within the confines of our glorious Jumble Hero, you also deserve congratulation for protecting us from outside invaders, for indeed, where would we be now if we had been taken by surprise? That certainly would have been a predicament I should not have liked to play out, so to speak.”

Winsalthan groaned. This was not only a man who wanted to be heard, but one who enjoyed hearing himself speak. At this rate, it could be another half an hour before he got into the important details of the battle. Even so, however, there was nothing the Saturanian could do but wait. As Jorkaliterun continued, he waited with an air of utmost resignation, but he still waited.

After only around five minutes, as compared to the thirty Winsalthan had anticipated, Jorkaliterun began describing the battle in full.

“It was so incredibly abrupt, you know, that no one truly expected it. Only two guards were present at the beginning, when the creatures began to emerge--two guards who, blessing be upon them forever, valiantly gave their lives today that we might still have ours. I was fortunate enough to be treading by the room while this was occurring, so when I heard the cries that could only signal some horrible, heinously unfair battle, I sent word to the rest of the troops to help via my radio. This radio--” and he held it up, for emphasis, “--may have saved our lives today just as much as those two most heroic guards did. For that, we should all be grateful for--and honor--such a blessed device. Let us pause a moment for reverence.”

Winsalthan rolled his eyes, disdain plain in his expression. “I should have known he’d do something stupid like this,” the soldier muttered to himself. Bored, he looked around the field to see if he could find anything interesting in his line of sight. Regrettably, all he could see were Saturanians, more Saturanians, and, of course, their vehicles. Nothing he hadn’t been looking at for the past several days. Left to twiddling his thumbs, he waited for Jorkaliterun to continue.

Momentarily, he did. “After I used my blessed radio to contact the rest of the troops, I immediately entered the room to find hundreds of hulking creatures beleaguering the two lone guards, so I immediately took out my blaster and starting firing away. Soon, the guards were dead, and I alone defended my people, but then it wasn’t long before the aid I had requested came, and we quickly outnumbered and defeated the strange things--and most strange things they were. Of hue they were something of a blue-violet; of stature, perhaps not unlike to my own; of build, great, though not extraordinarily; but, of skill, nothing--not when compared with our own might, the prowess we Saturanians alone possess. Let me now hear some praise for that incomparable prowess of the Saturanian army! Don’t hold back now, but bring down upon this puny celestial body the strength of your applause! Bring it all!”

The roar was soon deafening, and the impact of the Saturanians’ feet stomping could be felt for many miles around. Winsalthan joined in just as much as any other, as he was indeed a Saturanian, and, at least within his own mind, not among the least of them.

The glorious cacophony subsided only after several minutes, for despite Jorkaliterun’s superfluous abundance of speech, he had done a fairly good job of getting the crowd riled up, and, besides, the crowd wanted to be riled up; most were soldiers, and far fewer than the brigadier general had articulated had actually seen any action that day. Perhaps a hundred, at the most, which hardly even qualified as a drop in the bucket when compared with the 58,000 gathered upon the field.

Even so, the field had nearly (if not completely) achieved silence by the time Jorkaliterun began his speech anew. Winsalthan wondered what more the man could possibly have left to say.

“Though we laud over the greatness of the Saturanian race, as we should, I would be a fool to think that we are without blemish.”

He let that simmer in the crowd for a bit. Obviously, not all of the day’s news was good.

“From our careful reasoning--those of myself and your other leaders--we have deduced that those creatures on the Jumble Hero must have come from Wweliopaszukk’s transporter.”

Winsalthan threw back his head and had himself a good laugh at that. What a joke! He had gotten the transporter before any word of an ambush, and there had been no strange creatures nearby. There was no possible way for them to have come from the transporter; obviously, Jorkaliterun and whoever he had conferred with, if there truly had been anyone else, were making excuses. That made sense, but it also intrigued him--how had those creatures possibly made their way into the Hero?

“We do, of course, have some evidence. Chiefly, the ambush was from Wweliopaszukk’s chambers.”

Winsalthan nodded. There was no other way, short of retardation, to achieve such reasoning.

“Also, there was no hole or other such thing within the chambers, or, as far as we could tell, anywhere on the ship, and no one saw them get on by any of the conventional entrances, so they couldn’t have entered the ship externally. Therefore--”

Jorkaliterun was interrupted by another Saturanian who also had some kind of electronic sound enhancer, likely pilfered from some or other place. “Yes, you’re right. Dey didn’t come on da ship from da outside. But dey didn’t use no transporter, needer. I saw ‘em, dey came straight from da air. Dere was a fiercely blowin’ wind, den dey jus’ appeared, I tell ya! Dey don’t need no transporter!”

“All right,” was Jorkaliterun’s temperate reply. “Okay. I’m sure whatever you saw has a perfectly logical explanation, and we can figure that out after a good night’s sleep. Everything’s sure to make a little more sense tomorrow morning.”

“No!” the Saturanian retorted. “I don’t need no sleep! I know jus’ what I saw right now, right here!”

After that, there was a relative silence, at least around Winsalthan, for a stretch of seconds. Wondering what had occurred, as he had no way to see, what with those crowded all around him, so he sought out one of the taller folk present in hopes that he could learn. Luckily, one such specimen was near enough by that Winsalthan could make his way to him without too much hassle, and thence he did just that.

“Excuse me, sir,” he intoned politely, and waited for the Saturanian’s attention to be drawn to him, so that he wouldn’t have to repeat himself. Soon enough, he succeeded. The Saturanian didn’t reply verbally, but he did look at Winsalthan in inquiry, which was perfectly sufficient for him.

“Could you tell me what’s going on out there, please?”

“Mmm…two of the Brigadier General’s men just sedated the one who spoke out, it looks like. Now they’re taking him aside somewhere.”

“Which way are they going?” Winsalthan asked eagerly, absolutely intrigued. He wouldn’t miss something this interesting for the world.

The man pointed, and Winsalthan ran. He ran quickly, very quickly, but his mind was flying. Thought after thought pounded through his head: What was going on? What had really happened today? Why had they felt the need to silence the one who had spoken out? What were they doing to him now? Theory after theory, possibilities twisting and tangling themselves every which way they could, creating ever more unlikely secret schemes, conspiracies, coups; whatever could play out, did, in his mind. He told himself it was probably nothing, that the man really had been just a little confused from the day’s events and that was all there was to it. He continued saying that in his head, over and over, trying to influence his ideas by means of repetition.

However, a part of him would not be convinced. Too many things were just a bit too out of place for everything to possibly be that okay. The two factions of his mind continued to contest the menace of the situation as he reached the area he was fairly sure the tall man had been pointing to…part of him, the part that had wanted so badly for, had asserted so stubbornly that nothing would be wrong, was shocked. The other part was quietly laughing. He had known it would be this, even the part of him that had denied it so vehemently, yet…now even that part of him which had known all along wasn’t quite sure what to do; Winsalthan clearly hadn’t planned this far.

Yes, he had planned for something bad, but what he saw now…no one would have expected this.

“Fire,” hissed an officer, a colonel, through his teeth. The officer holding the gun, a lieutenant, obeyed without hesitation. The horrible machine vaporized its target, that most unfortunate Saturanian who had spoken out against Jorkaliterun, without a sound, releasing the gas from the top of the gun up into the sky.

Not only were vaporizers extremely illegal, not only were they horrible for the atmosphere, but members of Saturn’s one and only army had just killed one of the citizens they fought to protect over something as trivial as a public refute. Sure, it was their commanding officer who had been refuted, but to kill a man, to evaporate him…the Saturanian army was corrupt. There was no question. And someone had to know.

Those were Winsalthan’s thoughts when the colonel, the one who had given the order, happened to glance in his direction. Winsalthan tried to stay inconspicuous, making sure to be silent, making positive not to move, but the damage was done.

“Hey!!”

Once again, Winsalthan was charging across the field. He could hear two sets of feet pounding behind him. Yes, of course. The colonel would have bullied the lieutenant into joining the chase, Winsalthan thought. He continued running, making his way back into the crowd of people, hoping to either lose the soldiers or expose their deed, both of which he thought quite likely with so many people around. However, the crowd shifted out of the way for him, leaving an open path for the soldiers to nab him. Winsalthan ran farther into the crowd, thinking as quickly as he could, trying to find some solution to keep himself safe, keep himself alive, to--

“I’ve returned!” Winsalthan’s thoughts were interrupted by the unmistakable voice almost every Saturanian there knew, him perhaps most of all. He grinned widely, forgetting the dangerous situation he was in.

“Ubu! You’re back!” Jorkaliterun exclaimed joyfully into his microphone.

Yes, Winsalthan thought. He has returned.

His brother was alive.

“And Wweliopaszukk, too, I suppose?” Jorkaliterun inquired. “It’ll be good to put the true general back in command.”

Winsalthan was sure that was a lie, as sure as he was that the sun was in the sky, yet all that mattered was that Ubu was back. Unharmed.

“No.” Ubu’s voice was amplified, too, as it had been when he had announced his arrival, the only way to make it known to everyone. Then he had sounded confident. Confident and relieved. Now, he sounded weak, almost broken. “Wweliopaszukk…Wweliopaszukk is dead.”

“But, your clever ambassador is alive.” Who was that? Winsalthan was sure he had never heard that voice before. “And so is your most successful brigadier general. Victory is no time to mourn.”

The crowd roared in wholehearted agreement--anything to celebrate rather than to weep, anything to lighten the mood. No one noticed that the voice was completely unfamiliar; Winsalthan thought that the potency of the unknown speaker’s words had been enough to achieve that.

However, regardless of whether or not he agreed with the words, he would not attend to them yet. He had more important things to do.

“Ubu!” he called out as he ran toward the place from whence he had heard his brother’s voice. “It’s me! It’s Winsalthan!” he repeated, kept repeating, until he heard a response.

“Winsalthan?” Finally, he found himself face-to-face with his brother.

“Ubu!” Winsalthan embraced the ambassador, his one and only kin on this wretched moon. As he did so, he could see a burly man, of middling height and violet skin tone, looking back at him. Was this who had spoken just now? Some indigenous of Io? Dozens of questions suddenly sprang into Winsalthan’s mind.

“Wait a second, Brother.” He let go of Ubu and approached this purple-skinned fellow. His brother looked at him a bit strangely before he said anything to the assumed Ionian native. Winsalthan cleared his throat and began.

“Excuse me, sir, but are you the one who spoke a few moments ago?” he asked.

The purple-skinned humanoid nodded.

“So who are you?”

The man opened his mouth to speak, but was interrupted before he could. “Winsalthan, this is Nolan. Nolan, Winsalthan. Winn, Nolan helped me escape the forest. I owe him my life.” Ubu said this with just a touch of nervosity, Winsalthan thought, but that seemed natural, his brother having just escaped from…whatever it was.

“Why did you need to escape the forest, brother? Was it from the thing that killed Wweliopaszukk?”

“Now, there’s no need to dwell on that,” Nolan said rather didactically.

Winsalthan gave him a questioning sideways glance. “It was a simple question, Nolan.” What would make somebody say something like that? “And you’re not my brother. Ubu, if you would be so kind to privilege me with an answer?”

“Well, brother…” he paused to look at Nolan--which Winsalthan found decidedly odd--and then continued, “…there was a large pack of dogs, and…” Winsalthan knew from the first word that Ubu was lying, so he tuned out his brother’s voice and waited for him to finish. Something was very wrong, and he, Winsalthan, was determined to find out what it was. There was something absurdly wrong when his brother, the best ambassador in the Milky Way, was this bad of a liar.

“Ladies and gentlemen!” Jorkaliterun was speaking again. Were there really any ladies here? “Everybody, please return to your cabins within the ships while we prepare for a victory feast outside. Thank you! Oh, actually, those who lost loved ones today…please come see me. And Nolan, you need to come to see me, too. That’s all, everyone.”

A somewhat disgruntled crowd resignedly returned to the ships. This continued to make less and less sense to Winsalthan, who remained outside for the present. How did Jorkaliterun know anything about Nolan? “Ubu, how did he--”

“Because, Winsalthan,” Jorkaliterun’s voice again, but without the aid of an amplifier, “Nolan is my friend.”

Winsalthan turned around to see the brigadier-general smiling at him, hand extended in a tentative greeting. He smiled in return and firmly shook the proffered hand. “Good to see you, Brigadier-General.”

“And it’s good to see you, too--but if we’re addressing each other by our occupations, I’m afraid I don’t know what to call you.”

Winsalthan smiled genuinely at that. He hoped it didn’t make his previous smile look the fake it had been. “Well, what do you think? I’m a soldier. Just like you.” He hadn’t meant to add that last part, but it was the truth…nonetheless, he wished he hadn’t said it.

Luckily, Jorkaliterun seemed not to react to it. “All right, Soldier. So why weren’t you involved in the fighting today?”

Winsalthan was sure that if the man knew enough to be asking, he knew the answer well enough, but he figured it would be smart to humor his addresser. “I was part of the team sent to rescue Lieutenant-General Fxqulgankorjj.”

“Hmm. I was told the mission was unsuccessful.”

“Excuse me?”

“Wasn’t the goal also to rescue the scholar Yipfnikh? And didn’t you lose a valuable officer in the process?”

Winsalthan’s heart was racing--he wished his mind would follow suit. “Well…uh…”

The chastising frown Jorkaliterun had been wearing broke out into a grin as he clapped Winsalthan on the shoulder. “I’m only playing with you, Soldier. You did a good job today. If you hadn’t rescued the Lieutenant-General, we would have lost three valuable people today without any information to show for it. Keep up the good work.” And with that, the brigadier-general was off, Nolan and Ubu following along with him. “So, Nolan,” Winsalthan heard, “I’ve heard a lot about you. What’s--” He could have sworn he heard a stop in midsentence, and then a barely audible, “Okay, I think he’s out of…” before the sound faded to an unintelligible murmur.

Whatever was afoot, it seemed as if Jorkaliterun was somehow involved in it, too. But what would envelop Ubu, an overbearing brigadier-general, and this Nolan character? Winsalthan decided that he would have to figure it out. Then, he looked around and realized he was one of the only people left standing in the field. If he was going to pull this off, he would have to remain as inconspicuous as possible. Quickly, but not too quickly, the soldier scuttled back to his ship, mentally preparing for nearly anything, as he knew not what lay ahead.

Fxqulgankorjj woke the next morning to see a diffident-looking young lad standing above him.

“Excuse me…sir…but, Brigadier General Jorkaliterun has summoned you to a meeting…”

Fxqulgankorjj stretched and yawned loudly. “A meeting, eh? What time is it, boy?”

The lad looked at his watch. “Seven A.M.”

“Seven! Why would he call a meeting at such an hour? Why, I’ve barely just--”

The lad cleared his throat. “Well, sir, you can refuse if you like, but the Brig--”

Fxqulgankorjj urged him on. “Yes, what did he say?”

“He said that the meeting was very important. That all officers and officials would be there to discuss something vital.”

Fxqulgankorjj frowned and rolled his eyes. “All right, then. Lead the way, there’s a good boy.” With another stretch, he got up and walked toward the corridor the lad was already treading along. “Okay, now, no need to run! We’re not all as young and spry as you!” He couldn’t blame the child for wanting to be done with the task, but really now, he was practically sprinting!

“Sorry, sir! I--”

“No need to apologize, lad. Just slow down.” Thankfully, he did slow down, and considerably. Fxqulgankorjj turned his mind to more important business--namely, this strange, spur-of-the-moment meeting. Perhaps Jorkaliterun wanted to be promoted because of his “heroic deeds” yesterday, or whatever he called them. The man always had been full of himself. If that was the case, Fxqulgankorjj knew that he was the highest-ranked officer here with Wweliopaszukk dead, but if Jorkaliterun really wanted a promotion, then he wouldn’t have bothered to summon all the other people of importance, unless he was more full of himself even than Fxqulgankorjj thought. Likely, there was another reason.

“Okay, the meeting’s in his quarters, isn’t it, boy?” he asked in a near-rhetorical tone. “The meeting’s in the brigadier-general’s quarters?” The lad nodded.

“All right, then. I know where they are. You can go ahead and run along back to wherever you need to go. There’s a good boy.”

The lad was off like a shot, for which Fxqulgankorjj was thankful, but the motives for Jorkaliterun’s spontaneous meeting were now more muddled to him than ever. With a sigh, he walked down the hallway leading towards his colleague’s apartments.

“Fxqulgankorjj!” Skavornistavir, the fleet’s head doctor, was waiting outside the meeting room. “Good to see you again.”

He replied with a superficial smile. “Good to see you, too. What’s this meeting for, anyway? It better be important, for getting me up at seven o’clock.” He added a chuckle to soften his complaint, but it was still a complaint.

The doctor ushered him inside. “It is important,” she said. “We might as well wait for Jorkaliterun to--”

“Oh, so he hasn’t briefed you, either,” the lieutenant-general said as he walked to the open doorway.

“Well, actually, I was only using the word ‘we’ for--”

“Fxqulgankorjj!” Jorkaliterun interrupted as the one he addressed walked into the room. “I’m glad you’re here. Now that we’re all together…” he paused to motion at Skavornistavir, who came back into the room and closed the door behind her, “…we can openly discuss the situation at hand.”

Fxqulgankorjj looked around the room to see which people the brigadier general referred to when he said that they were “all together”. Besides the two he had already seen, he noticed Ubu the ambassador and Grashal the head pilot--the remaining two members of the original elite group of eight--as well as Winsalthan and Ualivantiscar, his rescuers, and the native Ubu had found so helpful, Nolan. Someone else was sitting in the beshadowed corner of the room, a man Fxqulgankorjj thought he recognized as Colonel Lagivarz, someone he had never liked nor respected. He wondered what was going on now more than ever.

“So, Jork,” he said disrespectfully, bring attention to the fact that he outranked the man, “what is this situation you’re talking about? Out with it, man! I need my beauty sleep.”

Ualivantiscar laughed. So did Ubu. Everyone else just gave him or Jorkaliterun empty stares as they waited to see what the brigadier-general’s reply would be.

“And obviously you haven’t gotten it yet.” Fxqulgankorjj’s opponent easily matched the mood. “But, on a more serious note, there definitely is a situation. Wweliopaszukk has been killed, and we need to elect a temporary general of all our armies until we can return to Saturn and elect a permanent one.”

Fxqulgankorjj nodded. He had thought this might have been it. “Since when have you been sympathetic to Saturn, Jork?” He had always prided himself in being good at pushing people’s buttons. “And why all these people? I thought only those members of the army ranking brigadier-general or above were to elect a new commander. The only other person with us on Io with that rank would be Qualayariavasch--oh, wait. He’s dead! So what are you doing, Jorkaliterun?”

“Well, I thought that since we obviously would both elect ourselves the new general, that we--”

“That we what? Throw off the legitimate election process in favor of bringing in people who know nothing of war? What are you doing? Look, I didn’t want to bring this up, but if you recall, the election process is only for when there are multiple officers of the same rank to vote upon. With me as the only lieutenant-general in our current group, it would be perfectly legal for me to take command, without need for your or anyone else’s opinion. Therefore, as I find you incompetent, I will. Can we move on? There are other matters at hand which this group would be much more suited to discuss, such as the natural dangers Io has presented us with.” He screened the room, aiming to give those present a general feeling of discomfort and perhaps a bit of guilt.

Jorkaliterun looked disconcerted; that he had not wanted nor expected this was evident on his face and in his mannerisms. He cleared his throat and spoke. “All right, Commander.” His tone gained more confidence, more defiance, as he continued on. “However, before we address matters of the moon itself, I would like to announce that I’ve promoted Lagivarz here to brigadier-general.”

Fxqulgankorjj didn’t even attempt to stifle his contemptuous laugh. “And since when was it Saturanian policy to allow its officers to appoint soldiers to their own level, boy?”

Jorkaliterun ignored the extremely offensive title and spoke. “Lagivarz killed thirty-four of the enemy soldiers and saved the life of a commanding officer on four separate occasions today. He did more than any one of our other troops. By all Saturanian standards--”

“By Saturanian law, Officer, the rewards for such action are subjective, and anyway, I cannot go by the word of one officer when I have such little knowledge about these events. Grashal!” He turned to the head pilot, who had been sitting in silent contemplation for the previous portion of the conversation. “Were you at today’s battle?”

“Yes, Sir,” the man replied more meekly than his crucial position suggested he ought. “In fact, I was involved with business about the Jumble Hero at the time, so I was very close to the action when it began…I was among the first to be involved in it, in fact.”

“Good.” Fxqulgankorjj smiled curtly. “Then you can tell me what happened today.”

Grashal nodded; he had expected this. He wasn’t a complete fool, just a bit frightened. Warily, he began. “I was going about my business when I heard a weird noise in a nearby room. I went to check it out, and didn’t think ’till the last second to pull out my blaster. Good thing I did, ‘cause as soon as I had opened the door, something jumped at me. As soon as I had shot it, another one jumped to take its place. If Jorkaliterun and Lagivarz hadn’t come to save me…” (Fxqulgankorjj wondered how much of that last part was actually true) “…I would have been torn to bits by the creatures. They were my relief, and then I went to announce that every available soldier be brought to help. Soon enough, we had defeated them, without too many casualties. That should have been about when you were rescued, right, Commander?”

“That’s right,” he replied glibly. Then he turned to face Jorkaliterun. “So, Brigadier-General,” he said. “How many casualties where there exactly?”

“There were six, Commander.”

“Six, eh? Can you give me a good estimation on how many we fought against?”

The brigadier-general’s face contorted in thought. “600, perhaps less.”

Fxqulgankorjj nodded. “Any theories on how they boarded the ship?”

“Well, I announced the general theory in my speech yesterday. To refresh your memory, we think the creatures emerged from the transportation device by which you were saved.”

The commander laughed. “Oh, my memory didn’t need refreshing, I just didn’t think you could be serious about the theory you announced yesterday. You’re going to pin all of this on a dead general so nobody has to take the blame? That’s awfully convenient, huh?”

“What? I’m not--”

“And how about your story? The two valiant guards, and then you single-handedly fending the creatures off while others went for help? Why isn’t it consistent with Grashal’s?”

“Oh, come on, Fxqulgankorjj--”

“Commander.”

“All right, fine, Commander. Are you telling me soldiers never use exaggeration for emphasis? I was with Lagivarz--”

“And I forgot to mention the guards,” Grashal put in.

“Yes, I was getting to that. I was with Lagivarz, the guards were already dead, and Grashal was defending the room for us. Pilots generally have pretty good aim, I think--or is that just me cooking up a fib to satisfy you? Well, you’ve got me there, Mister--”

“Enough with the sarcasm!” Fxqulgankorjj roared at him. “All right, so you exaggerated and Grashal forgot to mention guards. How about telling me what those things looked like?”

“Sure!” Grashal and Jorkaliterun said at the same time, and with the same alacrity.

“Oh, go ahead, Pilot,” Jorkaliterun insisted.

“All right then,” Grashal said amiably. “Well, um, they were rather largish, perhaps eight feet, standing on two legs, which they did except when attacking. They were a bit like wolves, really…maybe crossed a bit with bears. Very shaggy, very brawny, with large, greenish-yellow teeth and black eyes flecked with gray--much like Nolan’s, in fact.”

“But, but those are--” Ubu started to say.

“But those are such interesting characteristics,” Jorkaliterun interrupted. “Now, if we--”

“Are those an indigenous species, Nolan?” Fxqulgankorjj asked the purple-skinned native whose eyes were remarkably gray-flecked black.

“Well,” Nolan replied, “I have heard of them. In history books. But that species is commonly known to have been extinct these last 130 years, General Time. I’m not sure where your pilot received such a vivid description of them, but--”

“But they were on the ship,” Grashal asserted.

“Yes, they were,” Jorkaliterun concurred.

Lagivarz nodded, too. Evidently they were in agreement on something.

Fxqulgankorjj looked at Ubu. The ambassador was eyeing the ground warily.

“So.” The commander looked straight at Nolan now. “Creatures that have been extinct for 130 years are appearing among our ships. I find this rather odd. Somebody here is lying, or, since I’m not one to point fingers--” a joke to which no one so much as smiled, “--Can anybody say time travel?”

No one spoke. Everyone just stared at him.

“All right,” he said, “we can continue this discussion later. If nobody has anything else to add, this meeting is adjourned.”

Silence continued to reign within the room. Fxqulgankorjj smiled. “All right. Everyone but Head Pilot Grashal, Ambassador Ubu, and…Corporal, is it?” He looked askance at Winsalthan, who nodded in confirmation. “And Corporal Winsalthan may leave the room. Jorky, before you complain, this is my room for the next thirty minutes. You can return after that, if you really want to. Now, good-bye, everyone but Grashal, Ubu, and Winsalthan. Bye-bye…”

An irate Jorkaliterun stormed out of the room, followed by the rest of the crowd. In less than a minute, only Fxqulgankorjj and those he had requested to stay were still there. “All right, fellows,” he said with a conspicuously affected smile. “Ubu, Winsalthan, you two wait in the kitchen until I call you. Grashal and I are going to have a little chat.”

Ubu and Winsalthan both nodded and moved out of the room, assumedly to the kitchen. Grashal sat nervously, waiting a good while before he dared to turn and face Fxqulgankorjj.

When he did, the commander began speaking to him in a low whisper. “Why did Jorkaliterun have so much control over you, Grashal? What did he promise you? Why did you lie about today’s battle for him?”

Grashal shook his head. “I’m sorry, Commander.” He got up and walked out of the room without another word. Fxqulgankorjj sighed.

“Ubu! Your turn!” he called.

Maybe half a minute later, the ambassador entered the room. “Morning, Fxqulgankorjj,” he said politely, before he sat down.

The commander nodded in reply. “Ubu. Now. You always struck me as smart as well as wise, but this local you brought back from the forest with you, this Nolan, it seems to me that he’s got you like a puppet on a string. I find that rather odd.”

Ubu shrugged uneasily. “He saved my life. He deserves whatever he wants.”

“Hmm.” Fxqulgankorjj sat in silent thought for a moment, then continued. “I would have thought a man who’s been making negotiations all his life wouldn’t have given his rights up so quickly to a stranger, no matter how noble.” He paused again, contemplating. “Unless his safety was still in question.”

Ubu overtly looked torn; he was doing a bad job of masking his emotions. “I find your thought process rather advanced for one in the army,” he stated at last. “Perhaps you should have been the ambassador.”

Fxqulgankorjj chuckled. “I thank you for the compliment, but we’re not here to talk about me. If you wanted to do that, I suggest you treat me to dinner sometime. No, this meeting is about your recent change in manner, and only that.”

Ubu frowned. “Well, then I’m afraid I must be on my way. I do say it was good to see you again today, though, Commander.”

Fxqulgankorjj balled his fists in frustration. “Is no one going to tell me anything?!?” But Ubu was already out the door.

In a slightly more despairing tone than he had previously used, the commander called for Winsalthan. The soldier quickly ran in with a nervous look about him--but not the nervousness that the previous two men had possessed; more of a barely controlled excitement. “Can we talk in private here?” he asked Fxqulgankorjj. “No one can listen in?”

“If you lower your voice,” was the reply, the commander’s own low tone the example to follow.

“Okay.” Winsalthan only sat after Fxqulgankorjj’s prompting, then immediately continued. “So you’re against Jorkaliterun and them, right?”

“Jorkaliterun and who?” the other replied carefully.

“You know. And everyone. The big scheme? That Lagivarz, at least one more soldier, a lieutenant--and probably more of them than that. Nolan, I’d be willing to bet. It’s beginning to seem that Jorkaliterun and his crew are siding with the natives--those who attacked our ships.”

“But Nolan said that they’ve been extinct for over a century.”

Winsalthan snorted. “Nolan was lying. He’s got some kind of hold over my brother, Ubu--I’m sure that’s what you were talking to him about just now--and I think he and some others may be in league with Jorkaliterun and a portion of the Saturanians here. Do you recall that man who spoke out against Jorkaliterun during his speech yesterday, the one who said the creatures we fought against materialized from thin air?”

Fxqulgankorjj smiled. “How could I forget? That was the most entertaining part of the speech!”

“Yeah, well, the reason he didn’t say anything after his initial word was that some guards sedated him, brought him behind one of the ships, and shot him. Killed him. I saw it with my own eyes. One of them was Lagivarz. The other was some lieutenant; I didn’t recognize him. Lagivarz gave the order, the lieutenant fired. They saw me. The only reason I’m still alive is because Ubu came back before they could get me. I’m linked to him, but I think he’s the only thing protecting me.”

“Well, now you’ve got me, too,” Fxqulgankorjj assured him. This was finally starting to make some sense. “You’ll stay by my side, and we can figure this out together. To everyone else, I’ve chosen you to take my old place, as lieutenant-general. You’re my personal trainee.”

“But if you’re only a temporary commander--”

“I can appoint you to lieutenant-general until I’m replaced. Heck, I could appoint you a full general, if I wanted to. A commander can do what he wants. But now, we have more important things at hand. Do you think you could wheedle any information out of your brother, or sway him a little bit towards our side--anything that might help? I’ll offer him my protection, as you now have, if he wants it.”

Winsalthan nodded. “Well, I’m not sure, but I can try. I can certainly try. I’d say I’ve got about the best chance of anyone to persuade him.”

Fxqulgankorjj nodded back. “All right. I’ll…well, actually, we’re probably better off not…umm…okay.” He said the last word decisively, then pulled his two-way radio from his belt and handed it to Winsalthan. “You take this. I can say that mine blew away from the windstorm or some such thing and get a new one authorized so you can contact me if you’re in danger. Oh, and here.” He took hold of the radio and twisted a dial on the bottom. “Here, make sure it stays on channel twelve. Everyone else is supposed to be on two or six, so we should be okay. Now go. I’m going to get my new radio now, so just hang in there until then. I’ll contact you as soon as I have it. Now,” he held the outside door open, “After you.”

That night, Winsalthan and Fxqulgankorjj were walking together outside, atop the now frost-covered field. The day had proved largely uneventful since the meeting, with Fxqulgankorjj getting his new radio, the two communicating with each other, Winsalthan not able to ferret anything from Ubu, etcetera. The day may not have been wasted, but there were no visible results of the pair’s efforts yet, either. Needless to say, neither of them was remarkably chipper.

“We need to investigate Nolan,” Winsalthan was saying. “I think he must be the one with the answers to this puzzle.”

Fxqulgankorjj laughed with contempt. “Nolan? And you think he’s going to open up to us, when your own brother didn’t? For goodness’ sake, Winsalthan, Nolan’s the one controlling him! We couldn’t possibly learn a bloody thing from Nolan! Of all the stupidest things to say…”

Winsalthan howled in laughter. “Irony of ironies, Commander. Of all the stupidest things to say, I think your little tirade may have placed in the top ten. Look, up ahead.”

Fxqulgankorjj joined him in kneeling behind a small shrub. In the current light--that of the stars and various moons--one could just make out three short, humanoid shapes--all of which closely resembled Nolan. One of them was speaking.

“I can’t hear what he’s saying,” Winsalthan whispered. “Can you?”

Fxqulgankorjj nodded. He had always had good ears. In fact, hearing an oncoming ambush which nobody else could hear gained him a promotion straight from second lieutenant to major. Gosh, that had been over twelve years ago. Okay. He had to focus on the problem at hand.

“…as you can see. We bring back some more, and it’ll be no problem. These Saturanians, however numerous, will be ours. Then we can prosper once again under the Great Captain.” The voice was definitely Nolan’s, unless Ionians all sounded identical.

“Winsalthan, they--” he stopped as Nolan continued. He wouldn’t miss this for the world.

“Now, we don’t have time to dawdle. You never know who may be about. I’ve told the Saturanians that I’m bringing our king back to settle discussions.” There was quiet laughter at that. “The hostage has been taken care of. We’re all set to leave. So let’s go.”

The three figures suddenly morphed into hulking beasts, something of a mix between bears and--he was more shocked than he had been about the transformation itself when he realized that they were exactly as Grashal had described.

“Fix!” Winsalthan hissed out the name he had started using for the commander. “This is…this is…”

Fxqulgankorjj convulsed as he felt a sudden chill blast, then grabbed his head as a bolt of agonizing pain ripped through it. His eardrums were pounding louder than any cymbals he had ever heard. He could clearly hear the sound of footsteps, of breathing, of rushing water. It overwhelmed him. Then his vision was blurring. He felt himself fall forward, tasted the frozen dirt.

“Fix! Fix! What--” After that, he heard nothing more, saw nothing more, felt nothing more.

“FIX!!!” Winsalthan yelped, regardless of whether the Ionians were still within earshot. He shook the temporary commander of the Saturanian armies several times, to no response. Shaking uncontrollably, he put his ear to the commander’s neck. And heard nothing. Tears rolled in unchecked rivers down his cheeks, freezing to form crystalline lakes at his chins. He knew it before he ever began the chest compressions for CPR.

Fxqulgankorjj was dead.

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