Chapter 16

Five hours of searching later and still no sign of Ramona.

After his meeting with Owlen, Paul returned straight to Arts of Parts to a panicked mother. "This isn't like her at all. I'm worried, Paul, please help us look for her." Us being Martha and Eights. Eights had orders to scour the city, but Paul suspected that the drone would fail to report if Ramona wished to remain hidden.

This is beneath me. Paul kept telling himself. Progenitors did not intermingle with locals, certainly not the mighty Lord Nefarous. And why would he? On the rare occasions he stepped down from his flagship, the Indominus, he’d tour ruined cities or glassed mountains. Even if he had decided to stop and stay anywhere long enough to learn a handful of names, another battle would surely call him away.

There was always someone to hunt, always a fight against an army or fleet. The war between the Amani and the Tuyet Voi was galaxy-spanning, slowly raging for so many years. Daunting, unending, the next day there would be more conflict, and there would be more the day after that; that was the norm in the Umlenze galaxy.

The thoughts of war tossed and turned in Paul's head as he walked up and down the streets of Onesto, stopping by local shops asking if they had seen the pink-haired, green-eyed girl. None had. Some even scowled at the mention of her name; others had less than kind words to say about her. Paul found it amusing that Ramona had built a reputation as a mild nuisance. Not everyone disliked her however, one drone repairman clearly had great respect for her work, and a grocery clerk claimed to always enjoy her company and, “that little squeaky ball that follows her around.”

Finally, Paul let his mind slip to the meals he shared with Ramona and Martha. Guilt, not an emotion Paul typically allowed to manifest. It was not proper, a man of such violent history, to allow two locals to find comfort in him. When this was all over, he would have to leave and never look back.

Just across the bridge connecting one side of Oneseto to the other was a drone supply shop Ramona frequented, according to Martha. Streetlamps cast a bluish hue on the pavement and several flyers whizzed by, unabated by the chilling winds that had descended from the mountains like nocturnal phantoms. White fog emanated from Paul’s nose, the cold air reached the back of his throat and stung his bare skin.

A keen feeling came over him, a feeling that he was absolutely alone, and the temperature plunged even further. The memory of the nightmare visions flashed before his eyes. The thought of the hooded man made his skin crawl.

Another feeling suddenly bore down into Paul’s head like a siren in the dead of night. A humanoid figure stood at the end of the bridge not fifty yards away; ten men in black heavy battle armor joined him. They all cautiously approached with stun batons drawn. Paul stopped in his tracks, cursing under his breath. How a group of armed individuals managed to get so close in the first place was what made him shudder. Perhaps the Cathedral’s power worked even on conscious minds, or maybe he was too distracted by his own thoughts.

In his rush to find Ramona, Paul had left his sword behind, and now he felt naked without it. The surroundings didn’t offer much encouragement either, the bridge was wide and flat, but the metal suspension struts on either side could make for decent cover. Baiting the thugs close to the edge and shoving a few over the railings into the muddy river below could work.

The group encircled their supposed prey, their weapons and armor clunking and rattling as they settled into position. One man approached, helmetless with a smooth young face; he appeared to be their leader. “Put your arms up and come quietly. You are literally surrounded,” the man barked sternly. He exuded brashness, believing he caught just an ordinary man. A misconception Paul would be happy to exploit.

Not local police, definitely not Amani military. “You would do well to turn back now,” Paul said, keeping his hands at his sides.

The leader grunted. “We know you’ve been spying on Nova Eclipse, Amani dog.”

“Amani?” Paul said, off-kilter. These lowlifes would regret the day they mistook Lord Nefarous for an Amani patriot.

The encirclement closed in tighter, just a few feet more and they would be in perfect range to grapple. Paul fell into a trance-like state; each of the goons’ minds were ecstatic, but their formation was uncoordinated. A toron, rank with body odor, quietly approached from behind, electro cuffs in hand.

Paul sprang into action with a swift elbow to the toron’s face, bone met bone with a crack. The toron fell to the ground clutching his broken nose, and for a moment, the rest just stood there.

“GET ‘EM,” a voice shouted.

The first volley of baton swings whizzed through the air and smashed the ground. Two more strikes were coming, one low the other high, impossible to avoid both. Paul ducked but took an electrifying hit to the leg, which went numb at once. Limping one leg, he backpedaled away as several more thugs lunged for him; Paul ducked low to dodge one, then surged up with a palm uppercut sending the other a foot into the air.

Another stun baton sailed by, the electricity crackling angrily; Paul grappled the much smaller man by the throat crushing his windpipe then maneuvered his body to shield another series of whipping metal batons. He tossed the body aside once it went limp, and managed to back his way to the other side of the bridge, ducking in and out of the metal support struts, the batons ringing as they hit. A toron maneuvered through struts with grace, intense focus marked his empty black eyes, he patiently waited for an opening rather than swing wildly like the others. Paul gave him the opening he was looking for, then sidestepped the following thrust, grabbed the toron by one of its curly horns, and with bone shattering force, smashed his face into one of the metal beams. The ring of metal and cracked cartilage was quickly drowned out by agonizing screams.

One man charged in going for a tackle, Paul braced, ready to toss him over the edge, but he failed to account for the toron beside him and, WHAM! He got a mouth full of toron knuckles and sweaty fur.

Seeing stars, Paul refocused, but only to find that no one tried attacking him. The man that was charging stood frozen, his body strangely rigid. His eyes showed concern, but the rest of his body didn’t move. Murmurs broke out from the rest of the thugs. They cast unsure looks at one another. All at the same time, their weapons were wrenched out of their hands, flinging every which way into the air. Startled gasps and yells followed, then yelps of pain as two banged their heads against each other. A fight broke out between another two, though their bodies moved unnaturally as if they were trying to resist their own movements.

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Panic quickly ensued.

“It’s not me! I’m sorry!” One shouted.

“What are you doing?” Another pleaded helplessly as the man next to him pummeled him.

Their individual words devolved into an indistinguishable racket, which quickly all turned into urgent screams as they were sent soaring into the air, just as their weapons did. Some of the men were flung into the icy waters below. The rest hung suspended in the air waiving, cursing, and kicking helplessly. Only their leader, who was still frozen in place, remained planted on the ground.

“What did you do?” He pleaded softly.

Paul had no answer; he was just as aghast as everyone else.

“It’s nothing he did,” a familiar young female voice called. “I guess your people just aren’t as loyal as you thought. Flying off like that. Rude, don’t you think?” Ramona appeared at the top of the bridge, nimbly balancing on the metal supports. Then she gracefully used the men suspended in the air like steppingstones to join Paul's side, and once she firmly touched the ground, those men too were flung off the bridge into the waters below.

She eyed Paul with those glowing green orbs thoughtfully, and then she frowned. “I’m sorry I got mad earlier. I’ve invested a lot of time into all this, you understand.” The frown turned into an innocent smirk as she scratched the back of her head with one hand, the other outstretched towards the man standing in place.

Complete astonishment gripped Paul over what he had just witnessed. It took him a moment to find his voice again. “When were you going to mention you have powers? That’s not normal, you know.”

“It is to me.” Ramona shrugged. “I can make things move without touching them. So what?”

“You’re doing more than just levitating things for your convenience,” Said Paul wryly, trying to mask his awe. “I’m guessing this is how you broke into my ship and opened the sword case. Not to mention that fight with your mother this morning.” A spark of relief clicked in his chest. He quickly forced the thought down, but for just an instant, he was happy to see Ramona. “Your mother called me, fretting over your absence. I've been combing the streets looking for you all evening.”

Ramona laughed guilt-ridden. “Yeah, sorry, my mother tends to worry like that. She's kind of hardwired to protect me and all."

“Not even Eights could find you. I suppose it’s hardwired to neglect your safety in favor of what you want.”

“He...” Ramona murmured.

“What have you done to me?” The frozen man muttered through his teeth.

Paul and Ramona turned their attention back to him.

“Release him,” Paul commanded cautiously.

“As you wish.” Ramona complied, dropping her hand and stepping back to Paul’s side.

The man fell to his knees, gasping for air. He straightened himself back up after a minute. “Why won’t you leave us alone, girl?” He growled.

“You’re criminals. Do I really need any argument?”

“We’ve been providing free provisions for the needy here.”

“I told you people before; I don’t care. If this is Owlen’s attempt to guilt me into stopping my hunt for him, then he’s dead wrong. Emphasis on the dead part.” Her conversational tone quickly turned sour; she glowered at the man. “Let’s make this easier for everyone. I need you to take me to him.”

“HA! Little girl, you don't even have the right guy!” He shot back. "I work for Nova Eclipse; I’m on Mabahse’s payroll. Not that low life, Owlen."

Ramona turned to Paul knowingly.

"He's not lying," he said to her unspoken question.

The man looked both confused and relieved, then shot a startled look off the edge of the bridge. "Did you kill my men?"

Ramona strode over to the railing and leaned over to watch the river. “They’re not dead. Just going for a swim is all.” She turned back. “I don’t kill people. I’m not a degenerate like you." She watched those in the river all scurry up the embankment and disperse in all directions, no doubt terrified. She approached the man once again and shot him a deadly glare. "Whether you work for Mabahse or Owlen, you're still a criminal." She raised her hand once more, and the man gasped helplessly. "Now join your friends!"

"Wait!" Paul commanded, and Ramona settled down. He came face to face with the mercenary, glowering into his fearful eyes. "You will explain to me why you felt the need to attack me."

The man looked as though he might succumb to tears. “Oh man...I should have left this planet when I had the chance.” The man muttered, sounding drained. "We got an anonymous tip that you were an Amani spy."

Paul said nothing. The man before him was filled only with ignorance and fear, just a pawn obediently following orders.

“Look, I’ll tell you everything I know,” the man spoke quickly as if it would save his life. “We’ve been on high alert lately; some Progenitor named Abel Reyleonard arrived recently, so we’ve been following up on any potential threats,” He glared at Ramona. “I promise we’ll never bother you again…I’ll quit the mercenary life; I swear!" he added hastily as if every tiny bit of pleading might buy his freedom.

So, Abel Reyleonard, son of the Emperor, was the one hunting Owlen. Paul found the revelation both inconsequential and amusing. Felix Reyleonard had sent his pup to fetch an old deserter. There was no official agreement to protect Owlen, but Paul hoped for the chance to best a Reyleonard in combat.

The man was shaking now. Internally coming to terms that he would die that night. He no longer had any use. “Do with him as you please.” Paul nodded to Ramona, and the man was launched up into the air, and just like the others, flew off the bridge; his screams of terror silenced by a distant splash.

"Well, that was fun," Ramona mused. "Sort of a dead end, but fun."

"You were trying to draw these men out?" Paul asked thoughtfully. "So, you were the anonymous tipster."

“Um…” Her face warmed crimson. “I may have bugged your datatab this morning to emit a specific signal, and then I may have dropped a hint that you were an Amani spy working on said signal." She retreated her hands to her pockets and dropped her eyes to the ground. "I was so angry this morning, so I didn't really feel guilty for putting you in danger or anything. I actually kind of liked it, getting revenge and all." Her misty green eyes turned to Paul. "I'm so sorry; I can't believe I would do something like that."

Paul spit a clump toron hair out of his mouth and could feel a throbbing bruise begin to develop on his leg as the numbness wore off, but neither made him as uncomfortable as seeing the little girl before him on the brink of tears. Years of military service had not prepared him for this.

"Um...there there." Paul reached out awkwardly, patting her shoulder. "Shall we go home?" He asked both genuinely and soothingly, but most importantly, he figured that was the best way to stop the girl from breaking out into tears.

“Really?” Her eyes lit up.

“I think I'd prefer your mother's cooking over my ration bars," Paul said truthfully. "And the spare bed is probably more comfortable than my bunk," he added as a consolation bonus.

Ramona smiled greatly. "You changed your mind! All right, my neighborhood isn't far from here. Just a short walk."

Paul followed, mystified he was already returning to Ramona’s family. Oddly, he was impressed that the girl’s plan to draw out the mercenaries had worked, despite being bait, but her calculations had been off ever so slightly.

“The butterfly,” Paul said.

Ramona tilted her head.

“Your hand drawings, the hand, eye, and butterfly. You got them mixed up.”

“Oh- the butterfly must represent Nova Eclipse,” Ramona said, bursting with laughter, palm on face.

Pleased that he had successfully thwarted a young girl from crying, Paul let himself relax. Still, he couldn’t ignore the dark pit in his gut. Owlen’s words echoed in his mind as they crossed the bridge. So, this was why Owlen was so afraid. His fears were well-founded, although why exactly they hated each other was still up for question. If Paul revealed he already contacted Owlen, then the girl might just throw him off the bridge as well.