The Frihet Rebellion

Kramer swatted the strange blue bug that alighted on his arm. The jungle at night seemed alive with flying, crawling, biting and stinging things. And the noise was incredible, so loud, so constant.

He shifted restlessly on the rough matting, woven from jungle vines, that passed for a bed in Ideb’s village. His bedding, the earth floor, the woven walls, the thatched roof, all seemed to crawl with insects. No doubt Ideb and his people were used to it, perhaps they’d even developed an immunity to the myriad bites and stings over time, but Kramer and his crew were suffering.

“We should have packed insect repellent,” said First Officer Crane, turning, unable to sleep, on his own bedding nearby.

“We didn’t exactly plan on crashing here when we set out on this assignment,” said Kramer irritably.

“Trouble is,” said Crane, oblivious to Kramer’s sniping. “It’s so hot you can’t even cover yourself up. Not unless you want to boil to death.”

He’s right, thought Kramer. The heat is oppressive, overpowering. I can understand why the M’Abuutan go naked.

He managed a smile, despite his sweating, itching body, glancing down at the black undershorts that were his only nightwear.

Haven’t quite got the nerve to go that far yet.

He could hear Crane continuing to wriggle around on his bedding, trying to find a comfortable position that didn’t invite more insects to use him as a nighttime snack. Further over, in the shadows of the hut, the rest of the crew mumbled, shifted, moaned and swore in their own private battles with sleeplessness.

I’ll go mad if I stay in here much longer, thought Kramer. I know I probably sound as bad as them, but I can’t stand being around them just now.

He climbed to his feet, brushing down his undershorts, feeling several ribbons of sweat trickle down his upright torso.

“I’m going to stroll around outside for a while,” he said, feeling it best that the First Officer knew where his Captain was going, even in these circumstances.

Crane mumbled an understanding, too busy scratching to do more.

Kramer stepped out of the hut into the slightly cooler air outside. There was no breeze, but just the feel of the air on his skin, slick with sweat, was enough to make him stop and smile. He nodded cordially to one of the native guards patrolling the perimeter of the camp and received a cautious but friendly nod in return. Kramer had examined King Ideb’s security earlier in the day, and was pleased at the presence of so many perimeter guards. They not only watched for the dangerous local wildlife trying to enter the camp, but also for any attempted incursion by Princess Thalor’s men. Not too long ago it had been the Earth colonial forces they guarded against, but it mattered little to them. Both groups treated the M’Abuutan, the true Frihetians, with contempt.

Back on Earth, Kramer had little sympathy for the rights of indigenous people. But here, faced with the realities of displacement and prejudice, he found himself on the side of the oppressed. No one was more surprised than he was, and he had chosen not to speak to anyone of his confused feelings on the subject. The overall target of his mission remained unchanged. To place Frihet back under Earth colonial rule.

He began to walk, meandering through the center of the village, huts on all sides. Most held sleeping natives, but in front of several, men sat and talked, inhaling the smoke of Urgra, a naturally occurring narcotic farmed from the jungle. Kramer had tried it earlier in the day. It reminded him of the marijuana he had smoked in Military Academy, but at best only a very distant cousin. It had its own distinctive aftertaste, and its own kick. He exchanged greetings with the men, but politely declined to join them.

His walk took him further out, near the perimeter, and, unsure quite why, he found himself drawn towards one hut in particular. It looked like every other hut, but there was a small lamp burning in the doorway, the shifting light from the naked flame beckoning to him. It was a ridiculous thought, and he knew it. Nevertheless, he did feel pulled towards the light and chose not to resist.

A native woman sat alone inside the hut, bald, nose flaps flaring, naked, just like all the other villagers. But there was something about her, an aura, that Kramer found himself attracted to.

“You came,” the woman said, her voice soft, caressing. “I wished and you came.”

“You wished for me?” said Kramer quietly. “How? Why?”

“Chia often wish for things and they happen,” said the woman. “It has always been this way.”

She moved forward and lifted the lamp away from the doorway, placing it to one side.

Kramer entered cautiously, suspicious by nature. But the woman was alone. It did not seem to be a trap of any kind.

“You didn’t answer the why,” said Kramer.

“Why?” Chia knelt before him and ran her hands in meandering circles over his chest, his belly, his shorts. Then, smiling, she lay on the earth floor, her back arched, her legs falling apart. “Chia thought that obvious.”

Kramer looked at her baldness, her nose flaps, the slight twist to her mouth. Then he looked at the swell of her breasts, the curve of her hips, the firmness of her belly. He forgot about the insects that, almost certainly, infested the earth floor of the hut and joined Chia on the ground.

It would have been rude to decline such a generous invitation.

“Your Galactic is very good,” said Kramer as he lay, post coital, alongside Chia. Absently, he scratched at a new insect bite. “Better, even, than King Ideb’s translator I think.”

“I get lots of practice,” said Chia, smiling. “I work for long time as maid for Princess Thalor while she captive. Still do, now she free. People teach me, so I work better for Princess.”

“You work as maid…”

“For Princess Thalor, yes. Sneak back here to village whenever I can. Princess’s guards say nothing. Chia pleasure them enough times so they ignore Chia coming and going. Is easy at night. Few guards on Palace walls after dark.”

Kramer, fully alert, the initial after-sex drowsiness thrown off by the excitement of this new knowledge, sat up. He stared ahead, eyes unfocused, thoughts racing.

“Let me make sure I’ve got this straight,” he said, turning to look at Chia where she still lay, smiling, content. “You work as a personal maid to Princess Thalor, and you come and go as you please while her guards turn a blind eye because you sleep with them. And there aren’t many other guards around at night. Is that about right?”

Chia laughed. “Chia not heard it said that way before but, yes, it is right.”

“And what about the Princess? Is anyone in her room while she sleeps?”

“No. Princess not like people in room. She not wear much clothes to sleep and does not like guards seeing her like that. Princess very shy, not like Chia.”

“No, not like Chia,” said Kramer. “But this is all good. Chia, you may have given me just what I needed, in all sorts of ways.”

Kramer smiled and lay back down. Chia snuggled close, throwing an arm over his chest, a leg over his thighs.

“You and I need to talk to King Ideb,” he said as he grew hard with Chia’s closeness. “In a short while.”

Chia laughed again as she rolled on top.

Kramer’s request for an urgent audience with King Ideb was responded to with pleasing swiftness. Kramer saw it as a sign that the king had already been won over by his version of events. It would not be difficult to persuade him to provide help for the next step. The kidnapping of Princess Thalor!

He was escorted to the king’s kraal where, as before, the old M’Abuutan sat on his stoop, waiting.

King Ideb listened intently as Kramer outlined the hastily concocted plan. Ysang, the king’s interpreter, stood by his side.

“This would bring great benefits for your people,” said Kramer, trying to spin his explanation in favor of the M’Abuutan. “With the rebellion crushed, Earth would open up the ancestral lands once again, and your people could go home.”

Kramer paused, trying to judge the king’s mood so far, but the old face gave nothing away. He pushed on with, he hoped, another incentive for the king to agree.

“You, King Ideb, would be part of the decision making process on Frihet. You would have a legal and powerful voice in government. A voice you deserve.”

“You can be sure of this?” said King Ideb, through Ysang. “You speak for your planet?”

Got him, thought Kramer. Now all he needs to do is believe it.

“Yes,” he lied. “I can guarantee it.”

By the time you find out I can’t, it’ll be too late. I’ll be far away from here, heading for a hero’s welcome.

“This will all come about if we help you kidnap Princess Thalor?”

“Yes.”

The lies come so easily, particularly when they aren’t given to another Earthman.

“This woman of my tribe,” said Ideb, as Ysang translated. “The one named Chia. You are certain she is not mistaken? That what she says is true?”

The thought of not believing Chia had, strangely enough, not occurred to Kramer, and he felt a slight twist of nerves in his stomach at the suggestion. Could she be mistaken? He had no choice, at this point, but to go with his initial feeling.

“I believe her,” he said. “Yes.”

“We would speak with Chia. If we, too, find her truthful, we will help.”

Kramer smiled and nodded.

“Thank you,” he said, and for once in his life he truly meant it... almost. Kidnapping Princess Thalor would give Earth all the leverage it needed with the rebels. They would crumble without their figurehead. With Chia and Ideb’s help, the kidnap should be easy. Getting her off-planet was another matter, and one he would face when he had to. He would not let one detail, however big, ruin his overall euphoria at the prospect of having Princess Thalor in his power.