Page 61 of Experimental Voyage
An engine mishap during one of my lessons had revealed the stone’s secret. Rather than a potentially lethal detonation, every stone in the room had gone dormant.
I’d made it halfway across the Veloc’s hunting grounds before a pair of Crimson Crests managed to track me down and promise the shiftgems had been contained and wouldn’t be exploding. I’d faced a week of therapy after that.
The therapy hadn’t gone as well as anyone would like, but we’d learned something important.
If my shiftgem crystal could stop resonance, it would—and it had an admirable range.
Had the stone been with me before the accident on Schwana Major, the crash wouldn’t have happened in the same way. There was a chance the ship might have died in orbit without entering the atmosphere, allowing everyone to be saved.
I did my best to ignore that fact, something I would need more therapy over in time. Even if I could change the past, I wouldn’t.
When I stopped to think about it, I was content with the course I took with my life.
To keep Plague happy, I saddled and rode her while making Pestilence carry my bags. The stallion handled his duties well, and unlike the mare, he showed no sign of being bothered by my decision to ride Plague.
Plague had learned to handle my sessions with Pestilence with grace, although she leveled the mare stare our way if she felt I needed to hurry up and work with her instead. Overall, I enjoyed the animal’s jealousy.
Waldren had Palta.
I had a pair of oversized wolves disguised as horses. I couldn’t think of them as dogs; neither animal aimed to please, and while trainable and readily domesticated, they retained a wild edge I adored.
Like me, they desired adventure.
Experiencing new things revitalized us all.
As I always did when taking my death horses out on a ride, I left through the gate closer to the school and followed the path to the road surrounding the campus. Once to the road, trees blocked the view of those who might want to keep track of what I was doing.
I popped off the coverings for my links, removed the chips, and put them in their case, disabling their ability to track me at their leisure. I’d begun that scheme two weeks prior, claiming I enjoyed the quiet while on my ride.
If someone attempted to monitor my location using my link, they would see the chips go offline and assume I had pursued some peace.
Pleased with my precautions, I headed for the woods the Veloc used as their hunting grounds. If there were any on the planet, they’d find me soon enough.
The Veloc enjoyed toying withhomo sapiensbold enough to enter their territory. Rather than toy with me, I’d make use of them and secure a ride off Cremora Delta. It wouldn’t take much to convince the feathered murder machines to cooperate with me.
They enjoyed playing games, and the challenge I offered would add spice to their upcoming festivities.
At the lightest touch of my heels, Plague launched into a rolling canter, aiming for the forest hunting grounds. She enjoyed running into Veloc, and upon introductions, she insisted on playing with them. During the introduction process, I explained the rules of the mare’s game.
The Veloc won if they got on her back. She won if she jabbed them with her nose.
It had taken me a week to teach her not to bite her friends.
Luck was with us; within five minutes of entering Veloc territory, a pair of the feathered murder machines slinked out of the trees, bobbing their heads with their crests lifted. Both were white with yellow points and crests, and I wondered if I dealt with adventurous youth or the elite hunters. Reining Plague in, I swung off her back, and I chirped, hooted, and whistled at the Veloc, determined to introduce myself in their language—and warn them that Plague enjoyed playing with their kind.
Both listened, and when I finished, the pair cooed at me. The taller of the two said, in the standard trade language, “You are not a Deltan, I see. Deltans cringe, except for that one boy who has learned we won’t eat him.”
“You mean Delta?”
“You have met him? We seek to bring him back to Veloci Major.”
Right. The ceremonies and festivities to adopt him. I grinned. “Don’t worry about that. He’s eager to participate, so Viva will bring him at the appropriate time. There is no way he is missing a chance to receive gifts and watch you Veloc make fools of yourselves in an attempt to adopt him. But, perhaps, we can help each other. I need help getting off this blasted rock, and I’m more than willing to be showered with gifts and adopted into whichever feathered murder machine clan fights the hardest for me. Then that clan gets access to Waldren’s clan, as my second goal involves hunting him.”
“Hunt as in kill or hunt as in romance?” the Veloc asked.
“Romance. Killing him would end the fun far too quickly.” I gestured to Plague and Pestilence, who waited with admirable patience. “My death horses need to come with me, and I have claim rights on the next ten death horses to leave the failed colony world they live on.”
I’d questioned how I’d gotten the claim rights for the next batch of death horses, but I’d accepted with glee.
