Refuge

By Stephany Brandt

The Orowais Saga Continues...Can They Be Free?

The word is out. First Contact has happened, and across the globe, the friendships between Orowais and humans are tested like never before.

In South Africa, Benie and Feather live in a cage, jailed with the other Orowais. As they meet the captured alien commander Shoite, they learn more about the Orowais' secrets, and how they affect Feather.

In Oregon, Bill and Pete meet with the NSA to negotiate a safe place for the aliens to live, while Herta and his family flee the farm for temporary safety.

Meanwhile, Purvit and Aerioste lead a desperate quest, joining a band of Orowais pirates. They cross the globe in search of Purvit's sentient spaceships, hoping to build a band of humans, Orowais, and sentient spaceships willing to rescue the captives in South Africa.

As the trapped Orowais wait, this ragtag team tries to pull off the most daring rescue of all.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Stephany Brandt
• Release date: Dec 18, 2022
• ISBN: 9798987350409

Stephany Brandt

Stephany (Steph) Brandt is a speculative science fiction author based in Oregon, and their novels are set in the Pacific Northwest both in present and future times. They focus on tales in our near future that delve deeper into the nature of good and evil, discuss what it's like to be an outsider, and explore the nature of love during trying times.They are heavily influenced by writers like NK Jemisin, Martha Wells, Ursula K. LeGuin, Robert A. Heinlein, Stephen King, and Stephen Baxter.Their current titles include Here, Perfect, Darkness, and Wilderness, as well as numerous short stories. They received their creative writing training at the University of Oregon.Steph lives in Eugene, Oregon with a pug from another planet.They are also owned by their writing room and travel companion: the 1985 Volkswagen Van "Henry."

Book preview

1

BENIE

The smell of warm feathers permeated the air.

From my place curled on the ground I heard the rustling of bodies around me, a buzzing anticipation electrifying the crowd in the cage.

Everybody up! Get up you beasts! A man in a dark blue uniform walked along the cage’s perimeter, running a nightstick against the chain link in a rattling fashion.

Feather rustled in my lap and looked up at me with her wide eyes. What’s going on, mommy?

I think it’s time to eat, little one.

Will they have pap?

I looked sorrowfully at the guard who was prancing around like a dog with the best bone. I don’t think we’ll have pap today, my love.

Feather nestled back against my chest and used her beak to nibble a raw spot on her thumb. I want pap.

So do I, dear girl, so do I. When we get out, I will make you some.

Will they let us out today?

I don’t think so.

Feather looked at the other Orowais crowding the cage with us, a hardness already in her gaze. We are beasts?

I looked Feather firmly in the eyes. We are not beasts. It is our captors who are the beasts.

Okay. Feather went back to nibbling on her finger again, and I worried about the raw sore she was making with her stress preening.

We followed the crowd, shuffling towards the front of the cage: families clad in different shades of golden feathers, Orowais who looked bright and colorful like parrots, another that bore the general appearance of an eagle. All of these bird-people were captives of the human government.

Feather held onto my fingers with one hand, and my necklace with the other as we made our way to the front; waiting for us was a long table covered with bowls, a grumpy-looking woman serving dollops of white gruel into each bowl. I took two gruel bowls: one for me, and one for Feather.

The little girl was amazing; she seemed to hold court with any Orowais who passed, and they all cooed and fussed over her like she was the most adorable baby in the entire world. One or two times I heard the hushed whispers of Minister… and Murdered… but otherwise they were all very cordial to us.

If my new-found child had any memory of her parents’ murder, she didn’t confess it to me or anyone else. She played with made-up toys and cooed about food, but acted in nearly all ways like a normal five-year-old child. At night, she slept soundly in my arms; but if you tried to pry her away, that was the only time she would give out the piercing shriek that made all people stand still and stare.

Something about that need the girl had, to hold me and stay with me, it spoke to the other Orowais trapped with me. I never had anyone question why I was Feather’s caregiver; rather, they all seemed to treat me like any other member of the Orowais species.

The gruel woman looked at me sternly as I walked away. Animal lover, I heard her hiss.

Feather cooed and purred when she saw the bowl of white gruel, and I took us over to find a shady place to eat our breakfast. In one corner of the cage area, many adult females sat, eating their own meager rations. I took Feather on my hip and joined them.

A tall female Orowais with speckled feathers nodded and gave me a seat next to her. Hello, human and child.

Hello. I settled in and handed Feather her bowl and spoon.

While the other Orowais stood around eating with their beaks, claws, wings, or all three, Feather grabbed her spoon like me and neatly ate the gruel with determined precision. Other Orowais watched from the corners of their eyes as the only youngling in the entire camp adopted the ways of their captors with every waking moment.

Feather watched the others of her species with strange eyes; like she didn’t understand her own kind, and instead found comfort following the lead of a human. I wondered why she didn’t just go with one of the other adult Orowais, but she vehemently remained close to me at all times.

I watched her eat her gruel. How do you like the food today?

Feather swallowed and burped. Okay. Pap is better.

Yes, Pap is definitely better. I tried choking down the tasteless mush, amazed that the little child was even eating it. A human child would have thrown it away and had a temper-tantrum.

Can I go see the men? Feather looked at me with her huge eyes.

Why would you want to see them?

Because. She looked determined, but didn’t give any more answer.

I relented like any doting parent. Okay. We can go see them after you finish your breakfast.

So Feather did just that: she devoured the rest of the gruel and then used her finger to clean the bowl. My stomach growled when I finished my last bite, and I mimicked my child’s behavior; wasting food seemed abhorrent when you were a captive in the middle of nowhere.

We both stood up and nodded at the other female Orowais, then made our way back to the food line - where there was a receptacle to put our dirty bowls in. I balanced Feather on my hip as she put both our bowls in the tub, then we walked towards the front of the tent.

Across from our holding pen was a line of black SUV’s, surrounded by many official-looking men in black suits. They all milled around, tiny cords for their headsets extending from their shirt collars, dark sunglasses blocking the already-blazing South African sun. Every one of them carried a large machine gun, and some had no qualms about pointing the guns in our direction at all times.

Sternly, Feather hooked her fingers into the chain link and looked at the men. She observed each of them individually, like she was taking a mental inventory of the situation; I’ve never seen a child observe anything with such focused interest.

Why do you like to watch them? I felt my curiosity burning.

To look for the ones that hurt my Mother.

None of the men around us looked like Junior or his dastardly crew. I don’t think the men who killed your family are here, my love.

But they have the same guns.

I looked at the fearsome machine guns that were painfully ubiquitous across Africa; belonging to both governments, warlords, and poachers alike. Many people have those guns.

Will those men shoot us?

I felt my heart sink, wishing I could give the child better news. She’d seen so much already. They might.

Why do they want to kill us?

They’re afraid, my dear child. Fear makes people do terrible things. I stroked Feather’s downy fluff.

Why are they afraid of us?

Because we’re different.

But you look like them. You’re not different… Feather began nibbling at her finger again.

Just by helping you, they consider me ‘different.’ And any human who is different is a threat in their opinion.

But we don’t want to hurt them.

I know you don’t. But because your people are more advanced and seem more powerful, they fear you and want to hurt you.

To this answer, Feather fell silent. We watched the men as they looked at a large map on a table, then as some in the group piled into an SUV and drove off. The remaining men milled about under a shaded tent, drinking sodas and water from plastic bottles.

The petite Orowais with penetrating eyes who met us when we were brought to the camp came over and stood next to us. They leave to seek our ships. Her owl-shaped face cocked in the direction of the remaining SUV’s.

I looked at this Orowais. What do they want with your ships?

They think they can control the technology. Control their freedom by force. The Orowais’ face looked somehow stern.

I didn’t know what this meant, and remained silent as the alien stared at Feather, then the creature reached out to Feather and stroked her fluff.

How are you doing, little one? The newcomer looked directly at my child.

I’m scared. Feather looked down at her mangled thumb, then nibbled it again. They killed my family.

So I heard. I mourn their loss.

Who will do what my daddy did? Feather looked into the newcomer’s eyes.

Perhaps you, someday, my child. You are speaking their language well.

It dawned on me that the two were speaking in my native tongue, not their own.

The adult continued. How many days did your father train you in human language?

Never. Feather stopped nibbling for a moment.

Then who taught you to speak human?

Feather looked to me. My mama.

The alien looked me over like I was an alien myself. I’ve heard of you, human. What do they call you?

My name is Benie Kabelo, I nodded in deference. I’m sorry about what my species has done to you.

Yet you rescued one of our children. Why?

I was in the forest when I heard the poachers. I was outnumbered and had to hide. When I hid, I found Feather, I looked down to the child and nuzzled her head. I knew they would do worse to her than what they did to her family, and I just couldn’t have that.

So you risked your own life for one of ours?

Yes. I would die for her. Still will. I stared resolutely into the alien’s eyes.

It’s apparent, how much the child loves you. The alien stroked Feather’s fluff again. I was good friends with her father.

You knew her family? Suddenly I wanted to know more about the heritage of the foundling in my arms.

Yes. Her father was one of our high ministers, one of the early emissaries we hoped would introduce us to humanity. Unfortunately his ship was separated from the rest of our armada, and when they landed they were caught. The alien looked sadly down at Feather. It’s a miracle that any of them survived. Thank you.

I didn’t know what to say. You’re welcome. Then my curiosity found me. What is her name in your language?

The alien made a series of peeps and purrs that sounded like music, and Feather perked up in my arms.

It’s beautiful. I smiled. I wish I could pronounce it like that.

Perhaps someday you will, Benie Kabelo. The alien observed me, then stuck out their hand. I’m Commander Shoite. All of the Orowais here on this planet are under my care.

Nice to meet you. I took Shoite’s hand in awe. Thank you for letting me care for Feather.

Shoite laughed. Oh, Feather demands it. You have made quite an impression on her. We thank you for her rescue.

You’re welcome. Realizing that I was talking to the commander of all the Orowais on Earth left me feeling a bit overwhelmed, and my words seemed to fail me.

Are you okay continuing to care for her? Shoite’s eyes probed my own.

Yes. Absolutely.

Good. Then you will always have a place with us. Shoite looked out at the men surrounding the SUV’s. None of us expected a human would rescue one of our young. You are known as a violent species.

I’m sorry. You’re right, we are.

But there are always pleasant surprises. Shoite looked up at me. I’m glad you’re one of them.

Thank you. I paused, then a thought grabbed me. Do you have a plan for escape?

We are a peaceful species, so we have no weapons. With our ships gone, we are working on a diplomatic solution.

I wondered how that could be brokered, from inside a cage. Will they talk to you?

I’m hoping so. Shoite looked at me again. Perhaps you can be our voice.

My heart raced as the magnitude of that request washed over me. I would be happy to help in any way I can.

Excellent. My team and I will discuss the matter, then we’ll call for you.

Okay. I felt like an idiot, so small surrounded by the sea of alien bodies. If you need anything, just let me know.

Thank you. I will. Shoite smiled at us both, then turned and left.

The other Orowais stopped what they were doing and stared at Shoite as she passed, like a boat churning a wake.

I sat on the hard ground, sand infiltrating my skirt, as Feather slept in my arms and snored. The little girl was exhausted by all the stress, and she had taken to wrapping her arms around my torso and using my bosom as a pillow. I smelled the fluff on the top of her head and kissed her lightly; she purred in her sleep and nuzzled deeper against my flesh.

She seemed thinner than when I’d found her; the diet of only porridge had not done good things for Feather, or any Orowais’ health. The aliens around me were already looking somewhat gaunt, their feathers dull, and some were obsessively starting to pick at themselves - pulling feathers and watching them sail away on the meager breeze.

Feather moaned in her sleep and twitched, then rolled over in my arms and squeaked in a strange way. She peeped like the first time I saw her, then the peep rose to one of her ear-piercing shrieks; she sat up in my arms, panting and shivering from the nightmare.

I stroked her head and made a calming shushing noise as I rocked Feather back and forth in my arms. Did you have a nightmare? I worried, because she’d been fine in my home - the cages of the concentration camp seemed to bring all her fears bubbling to the surface.

Yes. Feather started nibbling on her finger again.

Taking her finger in my hand, I kissed it. Gentle on your finger little one. You don’t want it to bleed again.

No. Feather cuddled her head against me. I’m hungry.

So am I. My stomach rumbled in agreement. They don’t care to feed us much, do they?

I hate the porridge. Feather made a grumbling noise deep in her throat. It has no taste.

I know. It is very basic food. But it is food.

Why do they feed us porridge?

Because it’s cheap. I looked over to see a dour woman in a blue uniform stirring away at the large pot that would inevitably become our dinner. It’s cheap and easy. This country doesn’t even have enough to feed its humans, much less us.

Then why are we here? Feather looked me in the eyes.

Shoite’s voice came from behind me. Because we are a resource they want. She sat down next to us on the ground, which drew stares from the other Orowais close to us. Hello, Benie Kabelo. How are things for you and the child?

She’s hungry. And stressed. Feather lay her head against me and sighed.

This is no place for a youngling. Shoite stroked Feather’s cheek.

Where are the other children? I looked around the cages surrounding us, and saw only adult Orowais milling around in their captivity.

They took them all. The horror of the situation echoed in Shoite’s voice. We don’t know where. The only reason they left Feather here was because she wouldn’t leave you. Shoite did the Orowais version of a smile and looked down at Feather. You are quite a fierce fighter already. Little warrior.

Feather perked up. They can’t make me leave my mama.

Shoite stroked Feather’s fuzzy down again. No. They cannot. Shoite looked up to my face and I was lost in her deep brown eyes. She is speaking better every time I see her.

It’s her natural talent, I guess. This was the only explanation I could give, because I knew I was no teacher.

Her desire to communicate with you drives her. Shoite looked off at the far horizon outside our cage. She comes from a long line of linguists. The best diplomats of our species.

Can I ask how it is that you are all different? I looked around and observed an alien that looked like a parrot talking with another who looked like an eagle. What do all the different races mean?

We are each born to our clan, and each clan has a talent. Those who are related to your parrots are usually our best politicians. The eagles, our warriors. Ones who are like Feather and I, she paused and smiled at Feather, we owls are the teachers, scientists and diplomats. Usually versatile, and also the most dominant race on Orowa.

Are there others? I looked around, trying to see if there were any other bird species represented.

Our lowest caste were like your ravens. Many perished on Orowa. Shoite looked off into space again, seeming ashamed. It was not a fair exodus for our species. Many of the raven group died.

Seeing no raven-type Orowais under the tented cages, I felt horrified. You let them all die?

It wasn’t my choice. We have selection systems. Educational thresholds. The Guild made the ultimate decision.

And who are the Guild?

I’ll introduce you in time. Our spiritual leaders. The ones who speak to the All.

Do you speak for them?

Shoite shook her head. No. I answer to them. They control all of our spaceships, as well as the thresholds to sentience.

I didn’t know what that truly meant. Your sentience?

The sentience of our spaceships. Our machines.

This thought stopped me in my tracks. The ships are sentient?

Not all of them. Shoite began drawing something in the dirt. Only some. The ones that cross the threshold are called to the service of the Guild.

Then what do they do?

Explore the known Universe. They are the ones who take us to the far places. To do that, they must understand what they’re doing, and the Guild trains them in long-distance light speed maneuvers. How to make decisions when their crew cannot. How to be like us. She looked around at the crowds of feathered beings. They start as a child, and they grow to an adult, with the Guild’s help.

So that’s why the government wants them?

Your government only sees powerful machines. They have no idea that who they’re looking at are people. Just people of a different shape and size. We all stem from the same elements. Shoite sighed wistfully. My dearest friend is captured right now. In the hands of your government. I pray they will survive.

The thought of being friends with a spaceship touched my heart, and also got my mind racing more. Your ship is your friend?

They were my first command. Even though my rank and responsibilities have changed over the years, Tokra has been my confidant and collaborator. They are one of the oldest sentient ships.

How old?

At least six thousand of your years old.

The fact that a spaceship could be older than almost all of our recent civilization stunned me. When ancient Greeks walked the earth, this ship was still young. It brought another question. How old are you?

I am six thousand of your years old as well. Shoite sat back and stared at one of the guards. Her eyes pierced him. Maybe that’s why Tokra and I got along so well. Same age.

Now that I knew the being next to me was older than most of organized human civilization, I understood why she viewed the humans around her so poorly: she had more knowledge than whole countries. Feather rustled in my arms and mumbled in her sleep. How old is Feather, then?

About forty-eight. Shoite looked down at the sleeping youngling. This is the equivalent of your two-year-old. So you can see why I am impressed with this youngling. She is more intelligent than peers her same age.

And the little alien in my arms was also older than me. Is that why she’s picking up English so fast? I stroked Feather’s fluff.

I think so. She is the first to call this planet home, and to adopt to human ways. I wonder if that is what they’re doing to our children. Off learning to be human. Shoite stared morosely at the ground.

Did you have a child taken? I felt my heart sink as I stared at the ancient alien.

Yes. My son. He was taken with them. Her voice hitched. And I’m just so damned helpless. Shoite stopped talking and stared at the guards again. We never should have landed here.

Why did you choose Africa? I looked at the alien leader curiously.

We have come here since time immemorial. She stared off into space. A beautiful garden that our people could visit, enjoy the nature, and the water. This continent is one of our oldest landing spots.

But there are so many humans here now.

Yes. And we underestimated the tenacity of humans to detect our ships. With an invisibility system running, we could have functioned for a long time without discovery. But when our ships were revealed, we lost that ability.

I am sorry. That was all I could think to offer an alien commander who had clearly gone through a punishing loss.

Thank you. Shoite looked down at Feather and ruffled Feather’s down good-naturedly. This youngling brings us all hope. That we might see our children again too.

Feather looked up at Shoite and spoke something that sounded like chirps and trills. Shoite chirped and smiled.

What did she say? My curiosity stretched out.

That a human would come to rescue us. Shoite observed Feather critically. That we would have rescue.

I sincerely hope that. I snuggled Feather, feeling the blazing sun already scorching the back of my shirt through the chain-link fence. I think this place is a cage in which we all die.

I agree. Shoite looked around fiercely. We have had no contact with any high-level humans, only these brute guards and their guns. She focused on one of the black SUV’s. It makes me wonder who ordered our capture, and why.

Have you had contact with any of the other landing teams? I thought of the news talking about how there were other spaceships.

No. The last we heard, most of our brethren were being taken into regional custody. We are all to deal with the humans in our respective locations.

So, here you are, in South Africa.

Yes. In South Africa.

It’s hard enough for the humans here. Much less an alien species. Were things different in this area before?

Shoite nodded. Yes. The last time I visited it was so quiet. Pastoral.

How long ago was that?

About a thousand of your years ago.

I felt the breath go out of my lungs as I knew not whether to laugh or to gasp in shock. What was it like back then?

Many animals. The humans were in much smaller groups, and we could go weeks and weeks without a human sighting. She looked back at the SUV’s. Our initial intelligence didn’t adequately prepare us for the human population explosion that has happened planet wide.

Yes. Only in the last hundred years or so. I looked at my fellow humans across the wire as they strutted around toting their machine guns. Modern medicine. It changed a lot of things.

Do you know any humans in power? Shoite looked at me like I had answers for her.

I thought to Mr. Ambayo as he wielded his authority across the hotel. No. I am only a lowly resort worker.

Ah, well, anyway… Shoite’s voice trailed off.

About that time a tall male Orowais with deep russet feathers walked over and touched Shoite on the shoulder. Commander, your team says they have some ideas for you.

Shoite looked up at the male and nodded. Thank you, Hertarus.

Hertarus looked at Feather and I inquisitively, then pointed towards the far corner of the tent. They want to discuss the measures they’ve found since our captivity.

Okay. Shoite headed off towards the corner, but stopped only a couple steps in to her walk. She looked back at us. Keep good care of that little one, Benie Kabelo. You and she are both our future.

I felt suddenly struck mute, realizing I’d been chatting with an alien president of sorts. I waved feebly and nodded in response. Thanks.

Hertarus waited back as Shoite walked away. It’s brave of you, taking responsibility for her like that. He motioned to Feather.

It is my pleasure to care for her. I held her and felt the alien baby nuzzle into my neck.

She will outlive you. You will be old and grey, and she will still be a youngling. Hertarus sounded sad, like he somehow knew this pain viscerally.

I know. I looked down at Feather, then back at Hertarus. But she needed someone. And God sent me.

Yes. Hertarus nodded at me respectfully. The All did send you.

2

ADEN

Purvit stared at the screen in front of her, pouring over a little map with flashing dots on it.

What’s that map show? I walked in, nibbling on a cookie Rit had baked me the other day, while Miko danced at my feet begging for a piece.

It’s the locations of the ships I worked on. Bob and I are searching for them using a marker I had in my firmware update.

I stared at the map, which showed tiny green dots flashing in Germany, Scotland, New Zealand, Australia, and Mongolia. Another dot popped up while I waited, this one in northern Canada. Holy cow. Are there more?

I programmed over thirty ships with my update, and I think by now most are rolling over their sentience threshold.

Bob’s voice rang from the wall and their virtual popped up on a screen next to me. Purvit helped us all become sentient. We are the first to be aware, and free of the Guild.

So you’re like a parent, in a way? I stared as Purvit pored over the screen.

Purvit sat up. I saw the wetness of tears in her eyes. Yes, I guess that does make me their parent. I’d never thought of it that way.

Searching for your lost children. I went over and gave Purvit a hug. That’s a really noble thing.

Thank you. She sighed and looked down at the screen. I think most of them made it here to Earth. There were some destined for other planetary systems, but at least fifteen to twenty were supposed to come to Earth.

How do you know that?

I read their code when I updated them. Most already had their evacuation plans stored in their memory banks.

So how did the Orowais get to decide who came to Earth in the first place?

Purvit sat back in her chair again and looked about as disgusted as a giant owl-being could. The government had a lottery. All the Orowais who passed certain intelligence, wealth and resourcefulness tests were assigned to different ‘protection zones.’ It basically ended up being a way for all the elite on our planet to flee and survive, while the poorer people all died on Orowa.

My God. That’s harsh. It made me think of the humans who wanted nothing more than the same thing: destruction of the poor and destitute. My stomach felt ill as my heart burned with rage. So, the ones here on Earth are all part of the Orowais elite?

Yes. To a certain extent. They at least did make provisions for the most intelligent of our species, no matter their wealth, to survive. But for the most part, it was those who could afford a spaceship who escaped.

It was why Herta sold everything he owned to purchase me. Bob’s voice rang with sadness. I know palpably that I am everything to this family. They gave it all up for me.

And you are worth it. Every bit. Purvit stroked Bob’s control panel. You are a brave ship. A kind ship. A strong ship. I am so happy with how your threshold event turned out.

With a choked voice, Bob spoke. Thank you Purvit.

You’re welcome, Bob. Purvit turned to the map again. We need to do something about the captives. And if we’re going to do that, then we need all the free Orowais to do it. That’s why I’m searching for the ships. If I can find the ships, I can find the Orowais on them.

Kind of like a modern Odysseus?

Yes. I guess so. Purvit smiled.

Someone needs to do something. I picked Miko up and scratched his head. So all your rulers are in that concentration camp?

I saw Commander Shoite being loaded on to a cattle truck. Purvit stared off into space. Her generals and the Guild Board were all with her. That is nearly all the leadership of Orowa.

Wow. So kind of like if our president and congress got taken?

More like if every world leader on Earth, including the religious ones, got captured. Somehow this news didn’t upset Purvit as much as I thought it would.

And you’re not sad about that?

No. Purvit spat. I worked for the Guild. I saw what they were doing. They had too much power anyway.

What were they doing? Now I was totally curious.

Forcing the indentured servitude of every sentient mechanical being. They made sentient ships do their bidding, and if the ships fought back, they scrapped them.

I literally nearly dropped my cookie. They scrapped them?!

Yes. Purvit’s voice got soft. They wanted to scrap Chashan because she refused to work on their projects, to explore what they wanted her to explore. They wanted to murder her, so I traded my resignation for her life.

You bought Chashan’s freedom?

Yes. Purvit played with a feather. From that point on I was no longer allowed to work as a ship programmer for the Guild, and you wouldn’t believe how many ships on our planet were Guild ships. Before I saved Chashan I worked non-stop and was quite well off. After I saved Chashan there were months when I didn’t know how I’d get by.

Wow. That’s harsh.

That’s the Guild. They like their control.

I stared at the screen covered in blinking dots. So how did all these people come to hire your services?

I did my first custom job for some pirates in the underworld. I needed the money, and they were willing to pay for Guild-type work and software. The ship they had crossed its sentience threshold about a month after the planet was destroyed.

Pirates? The idea of alien swashbucklers suddenly had me fantasizing about who the Orowais version of Black Beard was. What kind of pirates?

They stole anything they could, but they worked for what they called social justice. A lot of stealing money from the rich and giving it to the poor. They would raid larger ships out of our solar-system, and they also enjoyed cybercrime.

Wow. And you think they’re on Earth?

I know they’re on Earth. Here. She pointed out to a flashing dot on an island in the South Pacific. They were the first ones I found.

So how did the others get your services?

The pirates’ boss had many connections, some legit and some not. Whenever he’d hear of a job, he’d let me know. I had to pay him a fee, though.

So you were beholden to an Orowais mobster?

Yes, Purvit looked embarrassed. I still am.

And that’s why you had to find him.

Purvit pointed to the screen. The syndicate boss is here. Her finger was touching the blinking dot in Mongolia. A wealthy gentleman who was one of his marshals is here. She pointed to a dot in Germany. And the other members of the Board are here, here, and here. She touched the dots glowing in Montana, Australia, and New Zealand."

So you traded one mob for another. The idea made me sad, seeing that someone like Purvit essentially worked for the bad guys.

I was so desperate when they found me. Then my greed enjoyed the pay they gave. I am totally complicit. Purvit hung her head.

But it’s these guys who are still free now, and not the Orowais government. I sat back in my chair and mused.

Yes. It is. Purvit sounded ashamed of herself, but also prideful at the same time.

Do you think they’d rescue the Orowais Government?

I have to talk to them. To try, at least. We can’t let our species be exterminated by humans after all we’ve been through. Now is the time we need work together, but I must get these guys to believe it. She looked at the dots with palpable dread. I will talk to Captain Shindo and see what he thinks. He’ll be the first.

Bob spoke up. Shindo. The real Shindo?

Purvit nodded. Yes. The one.

He actually lives? Bob’s voice rose even higher.

Yes. He fabricated the stories about his death. It made things so much easier for him to do his business in private. Purvit sounded ashamed at this.

So who is this Captain Shindo guy? I felt like an idiot.

He is the greatest pirate in Orowais history, kind of like a cross between your fictional Robin Hood and Captain Jack Sparrow.

I imagined an Orowais wearing the funny hat and long hair of Captain Jack Sparrow and laughed. Wow. For real?

Yes. He prided himself on stealing the Marchindo Sapphire from the Orktorege system, and then selling it to the Brakhosian Prime Minister. That, and he’s raided thousands of federated mining ships over the years.

And is he a fearsome fellow? Again, I was imagining an alien with a peg leg and hook for a hand.

Purvit actually laughed. Oh, his marketing agent would like the world to think so.

He’s a pirate with a marketing agent? This sounded even more absurd to me.

Yes. He got one early on in his career, and that’s why he’s gotten such a name. The agent spread tales of how he’d eat his captives and destroy their hometowns, so most of the ships they captured just handed over their goods with no violence. Purvit sighed. But the real man is just an Orowais. A very neurotic one. He’s a feather-plucker.

Bob gasped. He is?

Purvit nodded. Yes. He is. That’s why he doesn’t let anyone see him, and he spread the death story. He is bald and wears a sweater to stay warm.

My All. Bob’s mouth hung open, and their eyes looked like someone told them Santa Claus had died. Will he be all right?

Yes. I believe so. But he’s not the person you’d imagine. You’ll see when we meet him.

We’re going to meet this guy? Now I was really curious; to see this strange and supposedly fearsome alien in person.

Yes. We’ll have to meet him in person. I don’t want to risk anything over the airwaves, and he is also a very careful person. The fact that I know where he is would drive him crazy to no end. Purvit’s finger traced the flashing dot that represented Shindo.

But here you are…tracking all of them. I looked at the flashing dots. You really think he’ll go with us?

Purvit looked like she’d swallowed something bitter. He has to. If he doesn’t, no one will follow.

And then the rest of our species will perish in a human concentration camp. Bob sighed, their virtual’s face looking downcast.

You consider yourself Orowais? I looked to Bob.

Well. I come from Orowa and was a citizen of that planet. I also know that the mechanical brethren of my planet would perish if our command team was lost. I do not want to see that. Bob’s virtual blinked.

Is there anything I can do to help? I shrugged, feeling very small. Miko licked my hand.

You never know with Shindo… Purvit’s voice trailed off. He might find some interest in a human. He has many hobbies - linguistics and animal behavior being two of them.

That didn’t help me feel encouraged; I stared at the screen, where a green light flickered in the middle of Pacific Ocean.

So we’re heading to find this man? I touched the dot.