Gods Dogs, Book 3

Feeling ‘ugly’ or ‘unattractive’ seeps into your life like poison, and it affects everything. Feeling worthless does the same. We internalize these limitations, and it takes an internal revolution to get rid of them.

Rupi Kaur

The refugees didn’t get a whole planet. The Congress asked the indigenous population of a cool world that was sparsely populated to host the women. Since they were a low tech species that didn’t care for the glaciated far north and south, they agreed. Since they were also a highly social species, the ‘price’ for hosting the women was they must share their culture with the indigenous people, especially the children.

The Congress dropped in a colonial package in the north, and a pre-fabricated town was quickly available for the growing group of women and many of their children. Few males made the journey, except from those races that were not of the dominant three species.

The planet was named Upana, and it was at the outer reach of the Goldilocks zone, circling a G2 star. One, close in, moon orbited it, which gave the oceans, which covered 60% of the surface area, goodly tides to bang against the two large continents.

Sub-tropical at the equator, forested further north and south, the landscape gave way to fjords, taiga, tundra, and steppes.

The locals lived in the moderate equatorial zones. The new town of off-worlders was in a forest near a tribal encampment that was also the meeting place for biannual gatherings of the indigenous tribes. The settlement plan was to build more towns at that latitude as needed, and connect them with rough-cut roads.

Farming, ranching, and agriculture were also planned so as to make them self-sustaining. Fusion generators provided power for the needs of modern life, and a space station was in orbit to provide the women access to the rest of the galaxy.

Satya docked at the small space station and the team exited the docking bay to be greeted by a nervous Lornalie Duval.

Moss wasn’t nervous. He greeted her with, “Hey, Lornalie, how’s your revolution going?”

She chuckled, a throaty growl, and said, “It’s good to see you.”

River grabbed the taller, heavier woman at her shoulders and said, “I’m glad you’re okay. We will do what we can to aid your project.”

Lornalie relaxed a bit and replied, “It is hard. Our men are against us. Many women fear the change we are asking for. They don’t see the importance of it.”

Pax said, “They know how the system they are in works, Lornalie. They know how to manipulate that system to gain power. They don’t know how equality could ever benefit them.”

“I know that intellectually,” she said, “but inequality is so wrong on so many levels. When I reviewed what equality looks like in this galaxy, I’m ashamed of what our empires have done to the people.”

“Yeah, maybe so,” Moss conceded “We’ve still got our share of problems.”

Quinn stepped in. “Would you show us around, and we’ll need to talk with your council on what specifically you want us to do.”

“Of course,” she replied and shifted into professional mode. “Please follow me.”

The station was a small spindle – a core spire for life support and power, and three rings for everything else. They were on the middle ring and walked by offices and conference rooms, some restaurants and a few shops, but also trading companies and banks or brokerages.

They entered an office with numerous employees at their desks. They passed through that to a smaller conference room. Six other women were waiting for them – two Dobal, two Baston, and two Chert.

The Chert were hairy and wore harnesses and kilts. The Dobal were squat with gnome-like features, and wore vests and knee-length pants. The Baston were heavy-worlders, in-between the Chert and Dobal in height, but thick with muscles. They wore sleeveless shifts belted at the waist.

Lornalie said, “This is the Coyote team.”

They saluted the group and waited. The energy in the room was not welcoming.

Lornalie went on, “”They need to be briefed on our situation and what we think the empires will do to shut us down.”

One of the Baston women, with a glowering dark face, responded, “You may trust these people, but we have no reason to. We can handle our own problems.”

River stepped forward to say, “Your bravado will get you killed. Grow up, for goddess sake. Your righteous indignation will not protect you from your real enemy, and we are not your enemy.”

“No,” the Baston sneered, “you’re a scrawny human female. What good will you be when the assassins arrive?”

River laughed. “I met them already.”

Moss added, “I convinced her not to kill him. He wasn’t much of a threat.”

The Baston woman looked to Lornalie, who said, “It was a three-man assassin team. Two died at their hands. River let one live because he was not a threat to her.”

“They’re amateurs,” Moss added. “If that’s all we have to worry about, you probably don’t need a Coyote team.”

A Dobal woman said, “You do not look or sound like warriors.”

“Not the kind you’re used to, anyway,” Moss replied.

A Chert woman put in, “This team held the emperor and the supreme council of elders hostage so Solomon could debate our scholars. Before that, they blew up Citadel City and escaped the planet without a trace. The Chert fear them above all others.”

The Baston woman shook her head. “I don’t see it, but if the Congress assigned them to us, we’ll make do.”

Moss chuckled. “You’re okay, lady. Trust but verify is a good position to take. Now, can we get on with the briefing?”

They sat around the table and filled the team in on the situation. The flow of women and families out of the empire was slowing due to government crack-downs. Families from non-dominant races, when captured trying to defect to the Milky Way, were reduced to slavery. Women from the dominant races suffered public humiliation and imprisonment. A better pipeline to get people out was under development.

The shadow government was actually three governments. Each mimicked the structure in each empire – councils of elders for the Chert; parliamentary monarchy for the Dobal; hereditary monarchy and feudalism for the Baston. As the women were made aware of the issues under discussion in each empire, they set to work researching the issues, then debating solutions. They produced recommendations, backed those recommendations up with hard research data, and released the results for publication to their respective empires. The empires tried to block that, but it was a futile gesture, given ansible communications, let alone the semi-autonomous nature of the merchant fleets that were fine with carrying mail to whomever it was intended.

Now that the merchant fleets realized the favorable terms the Congress granted the shadow governments, many free traders were calling Upana their homeport. Plans were in the works to build a larger space station to serve as a trading hub for Andromeda traffic. Recently, a deal was formalized with Sangalore guilds to provide haulers for the identified trade routes into Andromeda. The Iracian Hegemony and the Machine Autocracy were signatories to some of these trading agreements.

Lornalie concluded, “We have the opportunity to become wealthy merchants. However, in our charter, that wealth is dedicated to transforming our empires into places where people want to live.”

“Noble goal,” Moss said. “Now tell us why you need us.”

The same Baston woman said, “We know they are planning on sending assassins to kill us and disrupt what we are doing.”

“They will arrive on merchant ships,” Lornalie added. “Our allies at home know this with certainty.”

Quinn finally spoke, “What precautions have you taken?”

“We don’t know what precautions to take, but those from the non-dominant species know some of what was needed. They mounted cameras to monitor activity. They also patrol the town at irregular intervals. They are also the ones that are armed.”

“We’ll need to talk to them,” Quinn told her.

Pax turned to the other Dobal woman and said, “You are shaman-trained.”

The woman tried to shy away from the attention but caught herself to say, “I am.”

“Are there others?”

“A few of us.”

“Is it safe for shamans?”

“Not at home. We are looked on as witches.”

“I see,” Pax murmured, then went on, “If we set the town up as sacred space, could you and the others monitor it?”

“Yes, but that isn’t possible. The town is twenty square miles.”

Quinn answered, “We can manage that. Have you met with the local shamans?”

“Only in the spirit world.”

“Well, now we know whom to visit first,” Moss observed.

“I don’t understand,” Lornalie said.

“If we set up sacred space,” Quinn replied, “the assassins will stand out as a disturbance in the qi field.”

Lornalie looked to the Dobal woman for confirmation. She nodded but returned, “It’s too big a space, though.”

“We will handle that,” Pax replied. “All you’ll need to do is focus everyone with a ceremony. What do you use for that?”

“There are different ceremonies.”

“Drumming and a bonfire?”

“Yes. That is common for all species.”

“Good,” Quinn said. “You’ll organize it when we go to the planet.”

Lornalie was not convinced and asked, “How will this help?”

“We will be able to locate them,” Quinn said. “Even if our sensors fail to pick them up, as soon as they enter the perimeter we set, they will stand out as if they were wearing a beacon.”

The Dobal shaman said, “The patriarchy marginalizes and ridicules the shaman world as foolish superstition, and we women are just playing dress-up.”

“That’s a serious blind spot,” Moss said with a laugh.

“It’s not superstition?” asked a Chert.

River answered, “When you make an intention concrete through ritual, that is shamanism. As such, you do it all the time. Superstition is asking the gods for a codependent rescue.”

It took them a while to explain the differences, since esoteric knowledge was not valued in any of the three empires. It couldn’t be suppressed either, though, because of its primitive roots in the tribal structure that grounded the conquest ideology. Hence, it was merely marginalized.

The team was satisfied with the simple plan Pax proposed, and the next day, they took a shuttle to the planet.

The town sat high and dry on a bluff overlooking a river that meandered through a managed forest. A village of indigenous Upanans was across the river in a large clearing, surrounded by ferns and fruit-bearing trees.

The refugee town was laid out on a north-south, east-west grid, and the prefab houses and buildings clustered the communal ones in the center, and the housing further out. At the exact center was a large open area, a town square of sorts for full community meetings.

The landing pad for shuttles was near a three-story administration building, known as government house. A small group of mixed species adults met the team with their escort of Lornalie and a few of the women from the station, including the Dobal shaman.

The streets were leveled gravel with drainage ditches on either side. Shrubbery, trees, and flowers filled in the spaces between the streets and the structures. It was a peaceful, well-ordered scene they stepped into.

The mixed group meeting them was the town council, Lornalie told them. There were representatives of five more species among them, the so-called non-dominant ones. Those physiologies ranged from gangly to reptilian. It was a diverse group.

The Dobal shaman huddled with a group of three and told them to prepare a major gathering to create sacred space. That group glanced briefly at the Coyotes before hurrying off.

The Dobal woman told them, “It will take a few hours to get the word out and gather the supplies. We should be ready by sundown.”

“Good,” Quinn said. “We’ll explore the surroundings. Message us when you’re ready.”

“Do you need guides?” Lornalie asked.

“Thank you, but no,” Quinn replied.

Then the Coyotes trotted away, each headed in a different cardinal direction. They were wearing light armor, handguns strapped down to their thighs, and rifles on their backs. The helmets were down, though, retracted to the high collar of the suit.

Pax headed west, which took him to the slow-moving river. The task was to explore the perimeter so their A.I.s could construct a tactical map. After that task was accomplished, each would find an anchor point for the circle of protection they would build.

Creating sacred space was simple. One could do it by setting the intention and then exhaling to make it concrete. Setting up a safe sacred area that registered unsafe people was a bit harder.

On the other side of it, though, life-forms registered in the qi field anyway, and it was a cluttered place on a planet, especially in a forest. Sifting through all that to highlight those with hostile intent was the challenge. It was easier to pick them out, though, against the background of protected sacred space, since they wouldn’t belong.

Pax meandered on his westerly track until he came to an oblong boulder by the river. He checked his compass heading and decided it was close enough to the west cardinal point for the giant circle they would build. He sat on the boulder, which would be his anchor point.

A few minutes later, he called out, “Hail, Scout. I am Pax, a protector for this town.”

“Hail, Pax. I am Long Bow, a scout for the Uboni tribe,” the scout said as he slid out of the sedges lining the river and made his way up to Pax. “You are the first to notice my presence. We watch over the star children for they are ignorant in the ways of the world. I am glad they now have protectors.”

The native was slick black with a rounded head and brow ridges. He wore tanned skins of a mottled color that blended with the grasses behind him. At his waist was a sheathed knife, and he carried arrows and a short bow in a quiver on his back.

“Well, Long Bow, the bow you are carrying is pretty short.”

The native grinned, showing long canine upper teeth. “When I was little, it was much bigger. I played with it all the time.”

“That makes sense,” Pax said with a return smile. “Thank you for watching over the town. These people are refugees, and they are in danger.”

“We know. They come to the village to instruct the elders about their cultures. It is sad they cannot go home,” Long Bow said. Then he told Pax, “A few days ago, a male of one of their species tried to sneak into their town. He was an evil person. We trapped him and left him for the cats.”

Pax remembered from the briefing, the fauna included large cat analogues in the jungle. The forest held bear analogues. At this interface between the two eco-systems, there were probably both.

“Thank you, again. We will be setting up sacred space around the town.”

“Good idea. Do you want to meet with Nature’s Mother as well?”

“We planned to ask her permission. Would you take me to her?”

Long Bow coughed a laugh. “I don’t think you need me for that, but I will do so. It’s always good to visit her. Meet me at the starting place.”

Then Long Bow sat and began a meditation. Pax breathed consciously a few times to settle, then shifted to the meadow of far entity communication. Long Bow showed up a moment later.

“Communication is easier here,” he said. “The translation devices the Congress gave us work, but the time lag is annoying.”

Pax nodded and felt the full force of Long Bow’s presence. He was a good man with a cheerful and patient disposition. He was a skilled hunter, tracker, and fighter. Pax could also feel his connection to his tribe. It was a bond stronger than Pax had felt before.

Long Bow said, “Follow me.” Then he began to fade.

Pax deepened his meditation and followed Long Bow to the plateau of physically manifesting spirits, and to the presence of the archetypal mother of this world.

She resembled the Upana people, but was wrapped in flowing gossamer.

“Mother,” Long Bow called out. “I bring a guest to our world.”

She rotated in the flows of life and fixed her gaze on Pax.

He said, “Mother, I am Pax, a warrior from another world, sent here to protect refugees from those who would harm them. We ask your permission to complete our task.”

“You are a well-mannered boy, Warrior Pax. You have our permission, but you must not bring suffering to my people. They are bound tightly to this world and to each other. The bond is stronger than instinct. It gives them purpose for their lives.”

“Yes, Mother,” Pax said. “We will hold a ceremony at sundown to enclose the star children’s town in protection. You will feel it in the flows. I ask your blessing for our efforts.”

“You have it.” Then she drifted off to Pax’s shouted, “Thank you, Mother.”

Pax dropped the meditation and shifted back to his body. Long Bow wasn’t far behind him.

He observed, “You are skilled in the ways of the shaman.”

“My people have a long history of exploring the realms of spirit.”

“And, I suspect, a long history of warfare.”

“Sadly, yes.”

“Is it alright if I observe your ceremony?”

“Of course, Long Bow. You are a scout. It is your duty to observe, and I’d be honored by your presence.”

When the bonfire was lit at the town square, the drumming began. There were probably fifty drums pounding in rhythm to the Mother’s heartbeat. The energy of it went from a cacophony of sound to a focused ground of connection to all the people. It was then River called out to the spirits of the North. Quinn followed with a call to the spirits of the East. Moss followed with a call to the spirits of the South. Pax finished with a call to the spirits of the West.

“Hear me! As the setting sun is a death, the empires that threaten us would bring actual death to this town. But those that live here are the rebirth the empires need. These people need your strong protection through the night to greet the dawn of a new life. Bring your protection, spirits of the sky, spirits of the earth, spirits of fire, and spirits of the healing waters.”

A rolling earthquake followed, and the large moon rose in the east. Howls echoed through the forest, and thunder roared in the distance.

The drumming stopped and a profound stillness ensued. Then a gentle rain began to fall.

Long Bow said, “It is good what you do here, Pax. Thank you for letting me witness it. I will inform the elders.”

“You’re welcome, Long Bow,” Pax said as he stood. “Until we meet again.”

Pax bowed and trotted back to town.