The collection of Teretha at the mouth of the cave was divided equally between men and women. They each carried a winchcoil with large anchor hooks on both sides. These ones seemed to be modified to attach to a harness around each person. The dream singer stopped directly in front of a fierce-looking woman with braided black hair.

  "This is Maywil. She sits with Tusong in counsel and speaks your tongue. She will take you to your craft. They have brought the tools to turn it right. I'm afraid we cannot offer assistance for repairs. Our means come to us through the giving of the earth." The Dream Singer finished by embracing Alec's arm. "Generations of my family have been anticipating this moment. I sing your name, Alec, the lost warrior."

  Alec didn't know how to respond. They seemed intent on turning him into the man in the prophecy they had, whatever that was. He nodded to the Dream Singer and reinforced his last statement. "Like I said, get him to think. When I return, I will see what I can do."

  The woman leading the party raised an eyebrow at Alec; he remembered her face from before. She was the one with a look of mischievous authority who had embraced Alec's arm with a strength he could feel. That was quite the feat. She motioned to the other five in her party and to Alec and began walking down the rocky road.

  The Teretha boots were woven in such a way that they absorbed the sound of the foot falls. Alec felt like a bull trying to escape a priest's funeral in comparison. He looked down at his spurs and, for once, felt out of place in the wrong way. He tried to walk as quietly as the near shadows stalking along the road beside them. Maywil laughed a musical laugh.

  "It's ok, offworlder, you don't need to walk like us in order to be equal." Alec realized the way he had adjusted his walk to be quiet had left him walking like a toddler with a full diaper. He felt so out of place, but with these people, it was embraced in good humour. Alec joined her in a laugh; it felt like speaking a foreign language.

  "Tell me, Maywil, what stories do you have?" He hoped it was the right way to say that, or, if not, that it would be chalked up to the clunky trade speak.

  Her smile fell ever so slightly with less mischief, and her eyes became serious. "My story has taught me to believe in action over prophecy. I am the voice of reason for Tusong so that his head does not fly with the Dream Singers' tales. It is good to give the people hope, but you are no saviour, the Teretha will free themselves."

  Alec finally felt the tightness in his stomach relax. All the ceremony, all the belief, and looks of admiration, he was grateful to find someone who thought more like him. She still looked apprehensive; the culture of spiritual superstition had small roots here. Alec put her at ease with a small chuckle; it was more of relief than joy, and nearly all in the party stopped to look. "Finally, one who thinks more like me. I'm not here to save you, I never was. Like it or not, through fate or folly, I'm here now. I've decided to do what I can, but I haven't yet decided what that is. I can tell you this, your ability to speak plainly means more to me than any prophecy or mystic malarky."

  She relaxed and seemed to regard Alec with respect. She translated his words; clearly, some here did not speak the trade language. The party all began to laugh in small chuckles, and each bumped their elbows together firmly, like a casual version of their formal greeting. Maywil extended an elbow to Alec, and he reciprocated.

  As the journey continued, the speaking slowed as the flesh-and-bone members of the party focused on their breathing as they moved through the rocky, mountainous terrain. The moon had risen full; on this planet, it took a third of the night sky. The Aamaranth dust in the air coloured it purple-blue, but it shone nearly as bright as the daytime desert sun. The only difference was the light it cast, which spread long dark shadows contrasted with the bright tone of the light. They crested a rise, and Alec looked down a gentle-sloped valley to where Quip lay, wheels up in the moonlight.

  The group walked the final way down the valley, and the five Teretha began to unpack their winchcoils and to lock one anchor hook in the ground. "We normally use them for climbing and bringing the Aamaranth up and down in the tunnels. We brought some with us, and when I heard of our task, I knew they were the right tool."

  She was right, it would make short work of an otherwise impossible task. Alec walked over to Quip and put a hand on him. "It's ok, they are safe." The lights flickered on, and Quip's engines powered up. The Teretha looked up in shock, and in an instant, Maywil was brandishing a slug pistol. Alec made a gesture indicating that all was normal, and the party relaxed. "Maybe just say silent for now," Alec muttered, so only Quip would pick it up with sensors.

  The Teretha took the other side of the anchor hooks and lobbed them skillfully over Quip. They each toggled a lever and the winchcoils activated with a motorized whirring noise. Quips' metal frame creaked; he began to lift, and then, with a thunderous boom, it was rolled over onto its six wheels. They unhooked their gear and packed up. Maywil was marvelling at the odd vehicle.

  "It is a proud beast, a machine of great power. I would very much desire to have one of my own when I am free." She ran a hand over one of Quip's tires and patted it as one would prize stock.

  "It's been loyal and true, but I can tell you, it's one of a kind."

  "If you die, I will take good care of it."

  They both knew the truth: if Alec was dead, they most likely all were, but Alec chose to ignore it.

  "If I die, you'll have to tame it. If you can tame it, it's yours."

  Stolen from its rightful author, this tale is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings.

  She smiled at this and whistled to gather up her small troupe and embraced Alec's arm formally. "Until the next meeting, offworlder."

  "Until then." Alec returned the gesture and watched for a moment as they faded silently into the night. After he was sure they had gone, he climbed up into Quip. "Scared?"

  Quip chimed in with his familiar voice. "Alec, I do not ever want to spend time on my back again. If not for your return, I would have become a permanent addition to these rocks, but I was scared. No. I knew you would return."

  "How'd you know that?" Alec was appreciative of the confidence; he and Quip had been through a lot, and they had yet to let each other down.

  "I listened and scanned you. If you felt safe enough to play dead, then so could I. What happened, Alec?"

  "I'm still figuring that out myself, but I can tell you the plans changed."

  "I figured as much when I saw you in their company."

  "Alec, are you sure…"

  "No. This time I'm not Quip. Time won't allow for surety, though, and in those cases I gotta go with my gut."

  "Ah, I do not have one of those, but yours has yet to steer us wrong. Alec, there are 14 humanoid heat signatures headed our way and closing at walking pace."

  "Baron's men? We've been gone a bit longer than a scouting trip would take; maybe he sent someone to look. Makes me wonder if the Bridle has a tracker."

  "I wouldn't put it past them, Alec. The Bridle makes me nervous."

  "You'll be free of it soon enough, but for now, we gotta play the game. Turn on passive defence and bring them up on the vidtronic." Alec looked up from where he had been checking his happy flare stash. He forgot to light the one in his mouth as he stared at the screen. It wasn't 14 of the barons' men but eight. Eight armed men and the six Teretha people who had just helped Alec. Maywil was cradling a bleeding face, and the man in front held her own gun to her head.

  The baron's man called out to Alec in the vehicle, "you were supposed to put down these blooder dogs but why do I spy from the ridge." He pointed behind him as if Alec was supposed to know the spot he was referring to. "I see the baron's special pet colluding with these blooders." He emphasized his words by striking Maywil with the pistol. She called out in pain.

  Alec stepped out of the bay door, and the man sneered at him. He postured to his men, this man had watched his precious baron overperform. "There he is, the mighty curr. Now I'm under no misconceptions of what you are. I'm gonna give you an ultimatum. We could kill these ones here and now and then deal with you. Or you can come quietly, and we will let them live and return to the mines."

  Alec analyzed the eight men. He activated his augmented vision and whistled a low tone to check his tuning. The eight men looked at each other, and the leader laughed, "You gonna sing us a song then?"

  Alec took a step forward, raising his hands in a gesture of peace. He needed to buy just a few moments, and he could bring this swiftly to an end without risking the lives of Maywil and the other Teretha. "The way I see it, Baron Von Sinclair hired me to do a job. How I do it is up to me. While you may lack the patience of an intelligent plan." He paused as he watched the man's face as he let the insult set in. He didn't go for his gun. Good. Alec had them in hand.

  He continued his low-toned speech. He pointed at the first man, making his finger into the shape of a gun and thumping it. "I admire your boldness, as I have the skills to kill you where you stand." He mimed shooting the man and whistled a quick note in the key of "e".

  "Same as I had the skills to take these Teretha should I desire." He pointed at two more of the baron soldiers and mimed shooting his finger gun again. Two quick notes whistled, one first in the key of F, then the key of G. To hide his intent, he also pointed at the Teretha with the same miming gesture, but no whistle escaped his lips.

  "What you're doing now is interfering with a plan I had already set in motion. Go ahead and kill the Teretha, and I can consider what I will do with you for ruining my plans." He finished mimicking a firing motion with thumb and pointer at each of the remaining soldiers. A, B, C, D and a final higher pitch E. "I could take your heads for the baron to place beside Bracus' and explain how, without your interference, his job would be near complete."

  The final statement caused the leader to hesitate. He broke his gaze from Alec to check for assurances from his men that he was indeed on the right path. That is when Alec struck. Alec's reflexors kicked into high gear as he willed the Aamaranth vial in his arm to release a large amount. Time slowed for Alec, and his vision was crystal clear. His revolver was up from his hip in an instant, and Alec fired directly up in the air all eight whistlers in the tumbler of his firearm. The sudden noises caused the soldiers to flinch and turn their weapons toward Alec. As they took him in, firing straight into the air, they all relaxed. This must be some form of bravado, similar to the baron's showmanship.

  "You missed." The leader sneered as he looked back at his men, encouraging a nervous laugh. That was the final moment bought that Alec needed. He expended the last of his Aamaranth in this vial to lurch forward while whistling in a clear voice an octave starting in E.

  The men were still laughing as the whistler rounds rained from the sky, each found its target, and Alec had marked. Bright arcs of blood sprayed from the centre of each soldier's forehead in slow motion for Alec. He had calculated in those moments the only real risk and was on his way to mitigate it. Like a flash of lightning, he closed the distance between him and the leader, holding the gun to Maywil's head. Alec was as fast as the whistler, who was heading straight towards him.

  The soldier had still registered the danger and pulled his trigger as Alec had moved. Like birds flying in tandem, three things happened at once. Alec's hand felt a sting as the soldiers' slug rounds ricocheted off his reflexors. The leader's eyes widened as he registered Alec's face nearly nose to nose with him, staring in righteous anger. The third was that the leader's head mushroomed, exposing his slow-thinking brain to the moonlight.

  All eight fell in unison, crumpling over on the still living Teretha. They all looked at him in shock, disbelief and reverence. Each one of them, including Maywil, was staring as if they had seen a god walk among men. Alec cursed. That was the last thing he needed.

  Alec ushered Maywil into Quip's living quarters. She was looking around in awe at the strange gear it possessed. Quip stayed silent as Alec worked. He used some of his materials to stitch Maywil's face and then walked her back to her people, who were scavenging anything useful from the guards.

  "We will take them to another location where they will be found. We will dress the scene as if it were our people who took their lives." Maywil addressed Alec in gratitude. He had wished he could see them safely home, but with the bridal party possibly tracking Quip's location, he dared not. Maywil had understood the task perfectly, and it would protect Alecs' cover while he could figure out his next steps. His mind told him there was a solution where the Teretha and the innocent of the baronhoood may live in peace, but how he got there, his brain gave no clue. He would have to think about it and get more information back in the town. Maybe he could find an ally there.