Page 1 of Caught By Menace

Chapter One

Naya kept tothe shadows and moved silently through the cool night. Not even the inky darkness could slow her feet. She had traveled this path enough times to memorize every inch of the back alleys and darkened streets of Connor’s Run. Like most nights, the town’s power grid had failed, plunging the place into blackness. Not wanting to garner attention, she used no flashlight and relied on the palest slivers of moonlight from the three moons orbiting Calyx to make her way to the rendezvous point.

She shook off the cold sensation of uncertainty slithering along the back of her neck. Once her mind was made up, she’d never been one to hesitate. Tonight was no different. As a wide-eyed twelve-year-old terrified by the talk of the government signing one of the Harcos bride treaties, she’d sworn a promise to her best friend Jennie. Eleven years later, Naya refused to break that promise, even if it meant leaving behind the only life she’d ever known.

And so she ran. She ran through the back streets of Connor’s Run, skirting the squalid tenements and ignoring the stench of refuse from the poorly maintained water management systems. She kept close to the buildings, the brittle bricks and stones scraping against her thin jacket and leaving chalky marks on the worn, faded fabric. In a few hours, the lottery results would be official and it would be too late to save Jennie. She had to move fast if her plan had any chance of succeeding.

As she neared the meeting point, a ramshackle warehouse that had been long abandoned and scheduled for razing, Nayaeased up on her pace. Her hand drifted to the weapon secured at her hip. Her father had always joked that this gun would be pried from his cold, dead hands—and she’d done just that. She’d been nine years old the night she’d inherited her first weapon. Looking back, it was a sad omen of the dangerous, often violent life she would be forced to lead, but to keep food in her belly and a roof over her head, there had been no other choice.

Creeping through the darkness, Naya listened carefully. She held her breath and hugged the nearest wall. She scanned the warehouse for any signs of life and spotted just one light. The eerie red glow of a light stick gave the warehouse a sinister appearance.

Recognizing Dankirk’s signal, she pursed her lips and let loose a high-pitched, warbling whistle. The sound mimicking a night bird was quickly answered with a lower-pitched whistle in three short bursts. Assured the coast was clear, Naya hustled to the dilapidated building and darted between two busted-out boards. Once inside the warehouse, she pushed back the hood covering her face and kept her fingertips hovering just above her weapon. After being ambushed and betrayed more than once, she never let her guard down anymore.

“Naya.” Dankirk’s familiar voice cut through the darkness. “Over here.”

She crossed the brick floor and came face-to-face with the Red Feather fixer. As a member of the underground group of political dissidents, Dankirk handled the logistics and “fixed” all the issues that arose during their risky missions. Like her, he had some serious skill in smuggling supplies and technologies that were forbidden in their society.

“You’re late.” He tucked away the eerie red chem-light and replaced it with one in bright-yellow that more clearly illuminated his face.

“The rumors of the Grab have already hit the streets. People are talking about rioting. I couldn’t take my usual route.”

Dankirk laughed, the sound so bitter and resigned. “Yeah, because the food riots in The City last month did so much good, right? Hell, people always talk about rioting over the Grabs but they do nothing. They’ll serve up their daughters like lambs to the slaughter rather than risk the wrath of The City’s secret police or the sky warriors.”

Humming in agreement, Naya glanced around the warehouse. “Where’s the alderman?”

“He’s coming. Probably delayed the same way you were.” Dankirk slipped the glowing stick into the holder attached to a lanyard dangling from his neck. His illuminated face showed his disbelief. “Are you sure about this, Naya?”

“Not really,” Naya admitted, “but I can’t let those sky monsters take Jennie.”

He snorted with amusement. “Monsters? Shit, Naya, look no further than Harper’s Well if you want to see real monsters. Naw,” he said, his low, country drawl dragging out the word, “those Harcos men aren’t that bad. They keep us safe here on Calyx. Besides, they turn a blind eye to us sneaking folks off this hellhole of a planet to the colonies. They haven’t stopped a single smuggling ship or medicine or technology shipment from landing here in over a year. They’re doing a good thing for us.”

She couldn’t argue with him there. The Harcos were the dominant race in this solar system. Like her Earth ancestors, the Harcos were human but much larger and more terrifying. But she’d seen enough of them in the Free Market section of Connor’s Run to know she didn’t want one of them catching her in the Grab, the archaic chase organized every quarter to provide brides to these sky warriors.

Though they had women of their own on their home planet of Harcos Prime, they were tens of thousands of light years away.In exchange for policing the solar system, the sky warriors took payment in natural resources like minerals and food—and in women.

Unmarried women aged eighteen to thirty were eligible for the Grab. The officials from The City, the government center of Calyx, picked a town or village to host the Grab every quarter and calculated the quota required based on the number of sky warriors approved for the list by their superiors. This time it was nineteen young women who would be called. The mayor of Connor’s Run had chosen them by lottery that afternoon. By sunrise, the list would be posted throughout the town.

But unlike the girls trying desperately to get their names off the list, Naya was willing to do everything in her power to get her nameonthat list.

“You know the odds of you pulling off this plan are like, zero, right?”

Naya glanced at Dankirk. “That’s what we say every time we smuggle a family off Calyx to Jesco colony or Safe Harbor, Danny. We still try.”

He slipped his hand into the front pocket of his jacket and produced the passports and travel permits she’d requested. “They’re not as good as the old ones, but the Artist is long gone.”

Naya tugged his chem-light closer so she could see better and quickly thumbed through the forged traveling papers. Here on Calyx everything was low-tech. All official correspondence was paper and ink. Only in the colonies did the Earth descendants embrace superior and more efficient technologies. When she and Jennie reached Safe Harbor in a few days, they’d meet with Dankirk’s contacts and upgrade their papers to the implanted tags favored there.

“These are good. Good enough to get us through customs on the colonies,” she added and stuffed them into the inner pocket of her jacket. “What happened to the Artist?”

Dankirk pointed up. “They Grabbed her.”

Naya grimaced. “That’s terrible.”

“Not from what I’ve heard,” he replied. “Besides, she came from Harper’s Well. I don’t know about you, but I’d rather take my chances on a sky ship than live in that backwards swamp. Maybe it’s not so bad up there on their alien ships.”

“How would you know? There’s a communication blackout once you’re taken. You never get to see or talk to your family or friends again.”

“I don’t think that’s true. I’ve heard some girls have contact with their families. And the Artist has a sister that does some work for the Red Feather now. She was one of the last ones we successfully smuggled out of Harper’s Well. I guess she figures she owes us a debt so she helps us place single or widowed mothers and their children in safe houses on Jesco colony and Safe Harbor.”

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