Redemption Song Read online

  REDEMPTION SONG

  The Beginning of the Rynn-Human Alliance

  Henry Burns

  Copyright © 2017 Henry Burns.

  All rights reserved. No part of this book may be used or reproduced by any means, graphic, electronic, or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, taping or by any information storage retrieval system without the written permission of the author except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical articles and reviews.

  This is a work of fiction. All of the characters, names, incidents, organizations, and dialogue in this novel are either the products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously.

  Archway Publishing

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  Bloomington, IN 47403

  www.archwaypublishing.com

  1 (888) 242-5904

  Because of the dynamic nature of the Internet, any web addresses or links contained in this book may have changed since publication and may no longer be valid. The views expressed in this work are solely those of the author and do not necessarily reflect the views of the publisher, and the publisher hereby disclaims any responsibility for them.

  Any people depicted in stock imagery provided by Thinkstock are models, and such images are being used for illustrative purposes only.

  Certain stock imagery © Thinkstock.

  ISBN: 978-1-4808-4791-0 (sc)

  ISBN: 978-1-4808-4789-7 (hc)

  ISBN: 978-1-4808-4790-3 (e)

  Library of Congress Control Number: 2017908668

  Archway Publishing rev. date: 07/05/2017

  Contents

  Chapter 1 Exile

  Chapter 2 Three Blessings

  Chapter 3 Torque

  Chapter 4 To Ride A Unicorn

  Chapter 5 Close Encounters

  Chapter 6 Outward Bound

  Chapter 7 Leap Of Faith

  Chapter 8 Impatience

  Chapter 9 Forest Cabin Clan

  Chapter 10 Baby Steps

  Chapter 11 Chain Reaction

  Chapter 12 In Other News

  Chapter 13 Core Brothers

  Chapter 14 Press Corp

  Chapter 15 Tide

  Chapter 16 Haunted By The Past

  Chapter 17 California Dreaming

  Chapter 18 A Good Core Is Three

  Chapter 19 Interesting Times

  Chapter 20 Discord

  Chapter 21 Civil Actions

  Chapter 22 The Oligarch

  Chapter 23 Brothers In Arms

  Chapter 24 Armageddon

  Chapter 25 Graz’to

  Chapter 26 Time Is An Illusion That Only The Dead Do Not Share

  Chapter 27 Revolution

  Chapter 28 Disciples

  Chapter 29 The Truth Is Like The Sun

  Chapter 30 Zenpathy

  Chapter 31 Pact

  Chapter 32 First Blood

  Chapter 33 War Paint

  Chapter 34 Bugs

  Chapter 35 Alsoo

  Chapter 36 What Was Intended

  Chapter 37 Maker

  Chapter 38 Snake Squad

  Chapter 39 Wobble

  Chapter 40 3D3b And Burl

  Chapter 41 Trojan Horse

  Chapter 42 To Be Tall

  Chapter 43 War Paint And War Drums

  Chapter 44 Jamal

  Chapter 45 A New Student

  Chapter 46 Battle Lines

  Chapter 47 Hatchlings

  Chapter 48 Sad Soul

  Chapter 49 Centurions

  Chapter 50 What’s In A Name?

  Chapter 51 Zaski

  Chapter 52 The Ophelia Winslow Interviews, Part One: The Terrible Three

  Chapter 53 The Ophelia Winslow Interviews, Part Two: Warriors Go To Hell

  Chapter 54 The Ophelia Winslow Interviews, Part Three: Rocket Man

  Chapter 55 The Ophelia Winslow Interviews, Part 4: Redemption Song

  Chapter 56 And In The End

  Epilogue

  Glossary Of Rynn Terms

  YEAR 1

  1

  EXILE

  Small Snow Flower of the Hot Springs Clan beat her fists angrily on the door of the cell that held her. “Let me out right now, offal eater!” she trilled as her feathery head crest flared out. “This is my ship. Mine.” She kicked at the door when there was no response. The pad of her booted foot impacted uselessly against the metal of the door. “My ship!” she repeated.

  Underneath her outward anger, Small Snow Flower was frightened. It had been three days since her chief of security, Sun-Warmed Boulder of the Dwarf Forest Clan, had staged his mutiny. She had been stripped of her Torque and thrown into this holding cell.

  Small Snow Flower was a Rynn. At a little over four and a half feet in height, she was tall for her species. She had the cinnamon-colored, finely scaled skin common to Rynn. Her face was triangular in shape with large dark eyes, an almost nonexistent nose, and a tiny mouth that, taken together, evoked her avian-like heritage. She could almost pass as a human if you ignored her paw-like feet and her long-fingered hands with their vestigial claws. However, the cockatoo-like head crest would be difficult to ignore.

  The Rynn were a highly intelligent spacefaring species and had been exploring for over two hundred Earth years. Yet for all their intelligence and technology, they suffered the same failings as any less-advanced being. They were quarrelsome, ambitious, and vain. In short, despite their being an alien race, they were most human.

  Small Snow Flower ran her long-fingered hand through her pinkish feather-like head crest nervously. She had been there three days without being able to contact anyone. “Someone should be negotiating for my release. Someone should have objected,” she repeated to herself over and over.

  She walked over to the circular concave sleeping kip and curled up into a ball of worry. “I have allies, I have friends,” she thought fiercely. “Surely Gnarled Root or Dancing Water would have protested.” She curled into a tighter ball as she thought of her friends and frequent sleep mates. She swallowed, her throat suddenly tight. “But what if they didn’t?”

  Small Snow Flower had good reason to doubt. She was the youngest Rynn ever to be given command of a trading ship, even if it was the smallest in her father’s fleet. She was untried and untested, and Gnarled Root had often scolded her for her tendency to act aloof and detached. “You have to socialize more, Small Snow Flower. At the very least, invite some of the younger associates to share our kip.”

  “Morning Mist is cute,” Dancing Water had added helpfully. “And I heard Sun-Warmed Boulder is very interested.”

  “Anyone but him,” Small Snow Flower had chirped in disgust. She remembered replying, “There is something about that male that bothers me.”

  “I should have listened to myself,” Small Snow Flower chirped again, this time in distress. “What was it the First Teacher said about listening?” She grumbled. “No one can make you listen,” she recited and briefly covered her eyes. “I should have listened to myself.”

  Sleep was fitful and, for the first time in her life, lonely. By Rynn standards, Small Snow Flower was somewhat introverted and shy. Rynn spent most of their lives surrounded by friends and family. It was a rare Rynn who would voluntarily sleep alone. Most Rynn had multiple bed partners, and not just for sex.

  Small Snow Flower having only two partners was therefore problematic. The fact that she, Gnarled Root, and Dancing Water were not yet a breeding group just added to her problems.

  Small Snow Flower spent one more miserable day in the holding
cell before the door finally opened, revealing the imposing bulk and gloating face of her former security chief. If Small Snow Flower was tall for a Rynn, Sun-Warmed Boulder was, at close to five feet in height, a virtual giant.

  “Rejoice, Small Snow Flower,” Sun-Warmed Boulder trilled nastily. “You will not die today.”

  “Die?” Small Snow Flower squawked in shock.

  “Why yes,” Sun-Warmed Boulder returned cheerfully. “As the law states, incompetence deserves death or exile.” He smiled. “I despaired on finding a suitable place for exile, but the spirits smiled upon me.” His smile widened. “Of course, you still could challenge.”

  “Some choice,” Small Snow Flower chirped despondently. Sun-Warmed Boulder was an accomplished duelist. Her father had selected Sun-Warmed Boulder as her chief of security for his skill with the blade. Her father had assumed—incorrectly, it was now apparent—that Sun-Warmed Boulder would serve as additional protection, but instead …

  Small Snow Flower’s thoughts stopped suddenly. “You didn’t?” she gasped in horror.

  Sun-Warmed Boulder’s smile widened even further. “They challenged.” He shrugged. “They lost.”

  “Eater of week-old offal!” Small Snow Flower screamed. She launched herself at the security chief, only to be stopped by a well-placed foot. She fell to the floor. “They were my family,” she gasped. “My core.”

  “And a better core than you deserved,” Sun-Warmed Boulder sneered. He waved a hand, and two crew members entered the cell. They roughly pulled Small Snow Flower to her feet and dragged her away.

  Learning of the deaths of her core broke whatever resistance remained in Small Snow Flower, and she sobbed as they dragged her to a shuttle. She continued to sob as the shuttle left the docking bay. When she found herself being chained to a partially laden supply pallet, Small Snow Flower began to scream.

  “Don’t let it be said that Sun-Warmed Boulder of the Dwarf Forest Clan failed to provide a chance,” the chief of security laughed. “The air is breathable; the animal life might be edible. And should you escape from your bonds, you might live a long, long time.” He paused. “Still.” He punched Small Snow Flower in the jaw, rendering the former expedition leader unconscious.

  The pallet containing the limp form of Small Snow Flower and her supplies was lifted out of the lock and onto the local short green plant life, in a clearing surrounded by tall green-topped growths. Sun-Warmed Boulder barely registered his surroundings as he checked the bonds holding Small Snow Flower. By law, the bonds were designed, with some effort, to be escapable. “We can’t make it too easy, though,” Sun-Warmed Boulder reflected. Seeing Small Snow Flower beginning to rouse, he started to beat his chained former commander.

  Suddenly, there was a loud crack. Sun-Warmed Boulder turned his head. Approaching at a shambling run was a monstrous creature. It held a metallic object in one paw. There was another crack, and something ricocheted off the side of the shuttle.

  “Oh, too bad, it looks like you will not see the morning,” laughed Sun-Warmed Boulder. He quickly returned to the shuttle. In moments, it was a pinpoint in the sky, and then it vanished.

  Jeremy Blunt drove his black Ford F-150 several miles deeper into the woods before running out of dirt road. Every day, he’d drive the truck along a different dirt road. In a place like Knox Gulch, there were a lot of dirt roads. It had rained the night before, and there was a chance it might rain again. Jeremy had considered postponing his walk to the next day, but old habits won. He got out and started walking. It was less exercise than it was looking for a place to die.

  At the age of eighty-two, he had reached the end of a hard-worn life. His heart was failing, and recently his walks included frequent stops to catch his breath. He supposed he should head back to the city and check himself into a hospice or at least his own bed, but something—those same old habits, he supposed—would not allow him to give up and quit.

  The path he followed opened into a large clearing, and he was considering turning around when he saw it. At first, he thought it was a military helicopter. The vehicle had the same general shape, but after a moment, he realized this one did not have rotors. The craft landed with a rumbling hum.

  Jeremy stopped in his tracks, ducked behind a nearby tree, and watched in fascination as a section of the craft slid aside and a pallet with a tiny figure bound to the side floated out. Jeremy fought back the urge to growl. Another figure emerged from the craft and addressed the bound figure. By the gesticulations and the tone, Jeremy sensed the second being was gloating. When the second alien punched the bound one, Jeremy had no doubt.

  “Why that cowardly bastard …” Jeremy snarled. He pulled his firearm from his jacket pocket and started running toward the craft, firing as he went. Aches, pains, and age were forgotten in his rage. The distance was too great for any accuracy, but based on the alien’s reaction, he had gotten close. By the time Jeremy had reached the pallet, the alien ship was not even a dot in the sky.

  Jeremy turned toward the pallet and almost fell as a wave of dizziness swept over him. “Not now,” he growled angrily, and he used that anger to force himself to remain conscious. Still, he fell to his knees. Many minutes passed before he felt strong enough to stand and several more before he could check on the bound being.

  His first thought was how tiny the creature was. I doubt it’s more than four and a half feet tall, he thought. He vaguely remembered reading of supposed close encounters. I thought they were supposed to be gray. He frowned. And with big black eyes. This creature was the color of cinnamon, and while it did have large eyes for its size, they were barely larger than a human’s. The mouth was tiny, though very human-like, and its small nose seemed more of an afterthought. The creature even had recognizable, though somewhat cup-shaped, ears. A large greenish bruise discolored the reddish-brown flesh around the eyes.

  He carefully touched the creature’s face, and the creature gave a slight whistling moan. “Well, it’s alive,” he muttered. He examined the creature’s chain-like bonds, and after a little experimentation, he realized that they were just draped around the creature’s body. He spent several long minutes untangling the bonds before he was able to free the alien.

  Jeremy had to again stop and regain his breath. He knelt down and, with a grunt, lifted the alien into his arms. “You’re a lot lighter than I thought,” he said to the unconscious being. He set his jaw and started carrying the alien back to where his truck was parked. Despite the lightness of the alien being, he still needed to stop and rest several times before he finally reached the truck.

  Jeremy carried the alien to the passenger side of the truck and, after placing the creature on the ground, opened the door. He grunted as he bent down, and he grunted again as he stood with the alien in his arms. With a final grunt, he shoved her into the passenger seat. Again, Jeremy took the opportunity to regain his strength. Then he retraced his steps toward the clearing. He made the trek back and forth four times before the back of the truck contained all the items that were on the pallet. He dragged the pallet to the truck as well.

  It was well after dark—in fact, nearing midnight—when Jeremy finally drove the truck into his garage and carried the alien into his cabin. Still out, he thought in concern. He carried the creature into the spare bedroom and placed it on the bed. After some fumbling, he was able to remove the alien’s boots. He stared at the paw-like feet for a moment before attempting to remove the alien’s jacket.

  Aliens used something very like Velcro, he noticed. The alien wore a cream-colored shirt underneath the light blue jacket, and the two mounds straining against the fabric were the proper size and position for breasts. He decided to leave the jacket in place.

  He placed the boots next to the bed and covered the alien with a blanket. With a final concerned look, he left the spare bedroom and closed the door behind him.

  Jeremy went back to the kitchen, made a cup a tea, and
walked out onto the porch to think. He sat down and shook his head. He reached into the front of his shirt pocket and removed a pack of cigarettes. He lit one and returned the pack to his shirt pocket. “I think I’ve earned one today,” he said, and he lit the cigarette and slowly smoked it down. When the cigarette was done, he carefully stubbed it out and placed the butt into an old beat-up coffee can that was half full of cigarette butts from previous evenings.

  Jeremy stared at the night sky. “Calling today strange would be an understatement, Mei,” he said to the sky. He chuckled. “There is an honest-to-god alien sleeping in the guest room.”

  2

  THREE BLESSINGS

  Small Snow Flower woke in darkness, surrounded by unfamiliar odors. She flailed around, trying to free herself from the heavy bonds holding her down, until she realized there were no bonds and she was wrapped in a blanket. After a minute or two, her racing heart slowed down, and she was able to get a better look around. It was still dark, but light was seeping in through what, despite its shape, could only be a window. It gave enough light that her eyes were able to discern some of her surroundings.

  The room was roughly rectangular instead of the more familiar circular, as was the lone window. What she assumed was a door was also rectangular instead of arch-shaped. “If that’s a door,” she whispered nervously, “then these creatures must be giants.” As if the thought acted as a summons, she heard a loud rapping on the door. Then the door opened. Small Snow Flower screamed in terror as a monstrous apparition filled the entranceway.

  Small Snow Flower flung herself off the pallet and scrambled as far from the creature as possible. She searched desperately for escape, but there was no way out. Small Snow Flower cowered in a corner with her vestigial claws extended to their fullest and her crest raised to its highest extent. Her brave display was marred by the fact that her eyes were tightly shut as she waited for the end.