The shed was small and cold and smelled of its former inhabitants, goats and chickens. Paltronis wrinkled her nose as she stepped in yet another pile. It was impossible to miss them, it was too dark and they were too numerous.
"Just sit for a while," Scholar said from the dark corner, the one with the least evidence of former occupants. He sat on a broken bucket. He had his hands tucked inside his sleeves.
"We can't just sit here," Paltronis objected.
"What else are we going to do? Fight them all?"
"There's only about fifty," Paltronis said.
Scholar shook his head.
"It's better than sitting here," Paltronis added.
"And what chance do we have of finding Dace even if we do get out? It's snowing again."
Paltronis kept pacing.
The door finally opened. One of the villagers shoved a lantern into the shed. He studied them both before stepping back. Paltronis couldn't tell if he was friendly or not, his face gave nothing away. He motioned them out with a jerk of his head.
It was snowing outside, tiny cold flakes that settled in the gathering night. The villager walked away from them, towards a larger building. Paltronis toyed with the idea of running, except she could pick out their sentries posted not far away. There were too many and they looked very alert. She followed the villager.
The inside of the building was warm. Scholar heaved a sigh of relief. Paltronis felt her stomach tighten, despite the warmth and the lack of weapons aimed at her head. All of their belongings were laid out on a long table. Three of the villagers stood behind the table, examining each piece.
"Don't touch that," Scholar shouted as one of them poked a finger at his comp pad. He stepped forward. The burly villager with the lantern grabbed his jacket and hauled him backwards. Scholar stumbled a step, grumbling under his breath. The villager kept a firm grip on his jacket.
"What is it?" one of the villagers, a woman, asked.
"Very delicate," Scholar answered. "It's a computer. It's keyed to me personally though. The interface won't recognize you," he added as the woman poked it again.
"And what of the rest?" the woman asked, waving her hand at the supplies on the table. "Guns? Explosives? What is the Patrol planning on doing here?"
"We aren't Patrol," Scholar said automatically.
The look the woman gave him told him it was an incredibly stupid remark. He glanced down at the Patrol emblem on his jacket and shrugged.
"We were sent on a rescue mission," Paltronis said.
"I find it almost as hard to believe the Patrol cares about us as I do believing you aren't Patrol." The woman watched Paltronis now.
"You need rescued?" Paltronis asked. "It appears to me that you're defending yourselves quite well."
The woman studied her for a long moment. Paltronis studied her back. Her eyes were hard, her skin showed wrinkles from years of exposure and hard living. She could have been as young as thirty though she looked closer to forty five. Her dark hair was pulled back into a bun at the nape of her neck.
"Who are you rescuing then, if it isn't us?"
"Rescue you from what?" Paltronis asked.
"From our own government. They're assembling an army at the foot of the mountains. This time they mean to wipe us out of existence. Not that they'll succeed."
"Why?" Scholar asked, puzzled and curious and completely unaware of the undercurrents of emotion in the room.
"Because we refuse to live the way they tell us to," the man holding his jacket said.
"You're working with the rebels," Paltronis hazarded a guess.
"And why shouldn't we? Our population has more than doubled over the last few years. Most of them are rebels looking to escape. The army is outnumbered at least three to one."
"So you take in refugees?" Paltronis asked.
"Are you asking to join?"
Paltronis shook her head. "One world isn't enough for me."
"Then why did you come here, prepared to wage a small war of your own?" The woman waved her hand over the pile of explosives.
"That's not nearly enough firepower. She usually carries a lot more," Scholar said. Paltronis suppressed the urge to hit him. The woman ignored him.
"There's a Patrol agent on Tivor. We want her back," Paltronis said.
"Tivor is a large place."
"We were told she was here, in the mountains."
"By whom?"
Paltronis just smiled. She nudged Scholar with her foot, hoping he got the message to keep quiet. "Our source is confidential."
The woman shook her head. "You tell me why you're really here and perhaps we can help you."
"We are here to rescue her, as I said," Paltronis said as patiently as she could manage. "She happens to be a good friend of ours."
"And does this person have a name?"
Paltronis glanced at Scholar. He raised one eyebrow. Whatever that meant.
"Dace," Paltronis said turning back to the woman.
"She may be going by a different name," Scholar added. "In fact I'm pretty sure she is."
"And that name would be?" The woman was skeptical.
"Zeresthina Dasmuller is the name she was born with," Scholar said. "She grew up on Tivor. That may be what she's using."
"Zeresthina?" Paltronis echoed. "No wonder she changed it."
One of the men leaned over and whispered urgently in the woman's ear. She waved him back with a sharp gesture of her hand, like she was chopping something off. The man stepped back.
Paltronis felt her senses heighten, on full alert. Dace hadn't been recognized, but Zeresthina had. She felt muscles tense, prepared to fight or flee. She shifted her weight to the balls of her feet.
"I am sorry," the woman said. "We cannot help you."
"You know her," Paltronis accused. "Don't lie to me. She's here, somewhere. You recognized her name."
The woman shook her head. "We have heard rumors of her, true. But we can't help you."
"Why not?"
It suddenly didn't matter that there were at least a dozen villagers in the room. Paltronis radiated threat to the point all the villagers shuffled back a step from her. Scholar shifted behind her, out of the line of fire, fists or feet. She didn't need a blaster to be dangerous.
The woman didn't back down. She held her ground at the table. "We know of her. Who in these mountains hasn't heard she's back and finishing what her mother started?"
Paltronis cocked her head. What had Lowell not told her about Dace?
"We were going to wait until the snows fell. It would hamper the army, not us." The woman stopped, looking down at the equipment on the table.
"What happened?" Paltronis asked, her voice low and very dangerous.
The woman looked up at her. "The police planted a spy. He found her and killed her."
Paltronis swore under her breath as she visibly deflated. She hadn't known it would hurt so bad. First Tayvis, now Dace. Who was next?
"Did you see her body?" Scholar asked.
Paltronis turned on him. He flicked one glance at her then ignored her.
"He chased her up the mountain," the woman said. "It was snowing, hard, and the wolves were hunting that night. There won't be a body. I'm sorry." She didn't sound sorry. "You'll be going then?"
"Going where?" Scholar said. "We were dropped here in an escape pod. There aren't any Patrol ships in the system. We have no way of going anywhere."
"Shut up," Paltronis told him, too late.
"There is a Patrol base in Milaga," the woman said.
"Which is how far away?" Paltronis asked. "And how many armies are in the way?"
"About three hundred miles and only one," the woman answered.
"Then if we help you fight that army, you'll help us find a way to Milaga?"
"We don't need your help." That came from the man still holding Scholar's jacket, more loosely now.
"I know tactics," Paltronis offered. "And Scholar can crack any datanet or com signal. We help you, you help us."
"It beats sitting in a shed full of animal crap," Scholar muttered.
"The village council will have to decide," the woman said.
"If you lock us in the shed again," Paltronis said, just a hint of threat to her voice, "we'll find our own way to Milaga."
"And why should we trust you to help us? What guarantee do we have you weren't sent here to betray us to the government?" The woman studied her, her face hard again.
"Does it help to know that most of your current government is going to be charged with treason soon?" Scholar blatantly ignored Paltronis's warning glare. "They've been dealing with the Federation. But what they don't realize is that the Federation will force them into a different form of government as part of the agreement to join. If they don't join, the Patrol should be here soon to enforce martial law, which I think you'll find is much more tolerant than the current regime."
"How did you learn all that?" Paltronis asked before she could stop herself.
Scholar grinned and nodded towards his pad. "It's amazing what the Patrol thinks is safe because it's encrypted."
"But how do we know we can trust you?" the woman asked.
"What reason do you have not to trust us?" Paltronis replied.
"Wait here." The woman left, the others trailing behind her into another room.
They were left with two guards. Scholar found a chair and draped himself over it. Paltronis remained standing, watching the guards watch her.
"I'm bored," Scholar said, staring at the ceiling. It was made of rough cut timber, like the rest of the building.
Paltronis ignored him. The two guards watched her, rightly assessing her as the bigger threat. Scholar was the sneakier threat. He slipped out of his chair and snagged his computer from the table. He lay back in the chair and spread it over his belly.
A ball of colored light rose from the pad. The guards turned to him.
"Harmless, see?" Scholar said, waving his hand through the yellow ball. The colors swirled faint pink before turning yellow again.
Paltronis used the diversion to edge over to a window. She peeked out. It was night, snow still falling thickly. With Dace dead, their mission was a bust. It didn't matter to her now if they were stuck here all winter.
The guards moved towards Scholar, entranced by the strings of light he played with. Paltronis turned her back. It didn't matter now. Nothing would be quite right again.
"Holy Hannah," Scholar whispered behind her.
She turned quickly, caught by the strange tone of his voice. He had a weaving purple light dancing in a complex pattern with blue strings. "What?" she asked, unsure what the significance of the light was.
"I've never seen anything quite like this." His fingers flashed through the lights.
Paltronis came to stand next to their guards, who shifted uneasily. She watched Scholar as he twisted the light intently, pulling it into new patterns.
"It's some kind of signal," he said. "That's weird."
The ball of light flashed orange and died. Scholar pulled his hands back quickly and stared at his pad. He muttered curses under his breath as he tried to reboot the system.
"I need a better power source," he said finally, rolling his pad up and tucking it into his shirt.
"So what was it?" Paltronis asked.
"Some kind of homing beacon," Scholar answered. "If I pinpointed it correctly, it's located at the top of the next mountain. Pretty high up anyway."
The man on her left made a strange gesture with his left hand. Paltronis watched him, wondering what it meant.
"The forest spirits," the other man muttered.
"The what?" Paltronis asked.
"They live up high, in secret valleys," the man answered. "They take what they want, but usually leave us alone. As long as we leave them alone."
"They took your friend," the second man said. "If the wolves didn't eat her or the spy didn't kill her. Either way, you're never going to see her again. They don't give anything back."
Scholar chewed his lip, something he only did when he was trying to make connections in his head. "There's something, I can't quite put my finger on it. Find me a power source so I can access my files and maybe I can tell you what it is."
"We don't have much here," their guard answered. "Unless you can plug it into a fire."
"Sunlight will do," Scholar said.
"Then you'll just have to wait," the man answered.
The far door swung open again. Paltronis looked up expectantly. The woman came back alone. She studied the two of them for a long moment before dismissing their guards with a wave.
"Show us you will help us," the woman said. "The men are leaving on a raid in three days. To steal weapons and supplies. You go with them. Your friend," she looked at Scholar, "will remain here. If you make a wrong move, we'll kill him."
Scholar frowned.
"Good enough," Paltronis agreed. "Do you have maps? Information?"
"Tad will take you to their meeting," she said as another man entered through the back door. "You'll be kept in separate quarters."
"And not allowed to share any information, I understand." Paltronis was suddenly tired of it all. She just wanted it to end.
"You help us, we'll help you," the woman answered.
Paltronis nodded and followed Tad out of the building.