Ruminations of a Wayfarer: Parts I and II

Outside lay several Tharnian bodies, victims of the short battle that had occurred.

The winds howled as Ky looked back.

He turned back and hurried inside the alien craft. He found Jarre, who was busy scanning the console’s array of flickering lights. "Jarre, we’ve got to move. We’ve got Winters."

Jarre didn’t seem to acknowledge Ky’s presence. Ky grabbed his shoulder. "C’mon, buddy, we’ve gotta move. Now!"

Jarre frowned. "You go. I’m going to try to follow you in the merzer."

"Come on!" exclaimed Ky. "You’ll never manage to fly this thing!"

"Then I’ll die trying," Jarre replied. "For this technology, it’s worth the risk. Move out, Ky."

Ky didn’t like it. What chance did Jarre have of getting the alien vessel off the ground? They knew little about Tharnian technology other than it was intended to kill promptly. "But I-"

"Move it!" ordered Jarre, breathing heavily as he scanned the controls. "I know what I’m doing."

"You’ve lost the plot, more like. Well, good luck," offered Ky biting his lip indecisively for a moment before scampering out into the wind. He didn’t want to leave his friend behind but knew him well enough to accept that it was pointless trying to argue.

"Hey, what’s going on back there?" shouted Forbes, struggling to be heard above the wind.

"Jarre’s going to try and pilot the merzer. He’s crazy? Tell me something I don’t know! I couldn’t stop him so I don’t suggest you try," answered Ky as he proceeded into their vehicle, the Tornado.

Forbes hesitated for a moment. He could not go back for Jarre, of that, he was convinced. General Jason Forbes was originally in charge of the troop, and officially, that remained. Conversely, Jarre came up with the solutions. It was he, and he alone, who had envisaged the strategies that had kept them alive. The contemplation of losing him was alarming but there was little or no point in giving him an order that would never be obeyed. He took a final glimpse at the merzer, noting the crimson pennant of the Tharnian Empire by the entrance thrash about in the inclement airstreams vigorously, almost contemptuously, as though prophesying Jarre’s inevitable doom. He spat at the soil, an appropriate gesture to farewell a recalcitrant man, before rushing into the Tornado.

Ganna moved her hands expertly over the multitude of switches that projected from the control panel. "No sign of Jarre yet," she said, somewhat fretful as Ky moved by her side to examine the scandar. They both stepped down as Harris, their only technician, began his watch.

"What does he think he’s doing?" said a dumbfounded Ky, more to himself than to anyone in particular. "We’re going to have Tharnians swarming all over the place any second!"

"Rhetorical questions we don’t need-Jarre we do," said Ganna icily.

"Activity to the west; looks like at least one patrol, maybe two," said Harris. "They’re coming." He didn’t know whether he was exultant or poignant that Jarre wanted to stay behind. On one hand, Jarre was a survivor, and he had kept them alive. On the other, he was unbalanced. Harris didn’t like that sort of intrinsic worth in anyone.