I followed Stari through the endless hallways of the underground base. If I could help make the Changelings pay for what they had done to me, I wouldn’t hesitate.
I would pay it back a thousand-fold.
None of the Yayora took much notice of me as Stari led me through their base. Dirt dusted our heads every few seconds from the vibrations caused by the tools the Yayora used to expand the base.
My room was housed along one wall of the largest space—what Stari referred to as “the hangar.” It stretched so far up it was hard to make out the top. Thick girders braced the ceiling.
“We’ll have to bring the ceiling down when we’re ready to attack,” Stari said. “We can’t risk the Changelings finding us down here by opening it any sooner.”
These guys were seriously organized.
“It might be hard to believe now but we’ve always been a peaceful species,” Stari said. “It took the Changelings taking everything we held dear to learn the value of aggression and the need to overcome our enemies, no matter the cost.”
It was hard to imagine Stari letting anyone walk over her. She wore a blaster pistol at her hip. She didn’t seem very concerned with me being so close I could grab it and use it against her.
Stari took me down another tunnel, this one cut into a huge mountain of dirt and rock. Along the hallways on either side were the remains of the stones they’d sliced through to create these vast tunnel networks. Small lanterns hung at regular intervals, much like mining tunnels back home.
These guys were not messing around.
Finally, we came to a circular room buried in the heart of the soil. It had a low ceiling and high-tech computer terminals ran along the outer edges. Yayora sat wearing headsets with a glass visor in front of their eyes in place of monitor screens.
“Grandpa?” Stari said, addressing the man sitting in the middle of the room in a large worn chair. “Maddy is here to see you.”
Her grandpa lowered the papers he was reading and turned a switch. His wheelchair spun around so he could look at me. He was the oldest Yayora I had seen yet. He had a big bushy white beard and so many lines on his face it was hard to tell whether or not he was permanently frowning.
“Maddy,” he said in a deep rich voice.
He extended his hands to mine. I was expected to step forward and repeat the gesture. I did, and he leaned forward and took my hands in his own. He bowed his head but not low enough to touch my skin.
I glanced at Stari, who nodded politely as if this was the usual custom for Yayora to greet each other. After he released me, he held his hands out to me.
“She’s not a Yayora, Grandpa,” Stari said. “She doesn’t know our customs.”
“Sh,” Grandpa said, keeping his eyes on me.
I took his hands in mine and bowed my head the same way he had. I shot Stari a look. Am I doing this right?
She smiled and nodded.
That was a relief. I didn’t want to offend these people. Not after they risked their lives to save me.
“How are your quarters?” Grandpa asked.
“They’re fine,” I said.
“Good. And the food? The quirlatch is a favorite of mine.”
He motioned to his tray sitting to one side, all the green colors had been eaten, leaving the reds untouched.
“I always liked the green flavors most,” he said. “Not the red ones. If you want to live to a ripe old age like me, you want to make sure to steer clear of any red food.”
Stari rolled her eyes.
“It’s good for you, Grandpa,” she said in the tone of someone who’d repeated the same thing a million times.
She picked up the tray and extended it to him. He curled up his nose and shook his head.
“I refuse!” he said.
He reminded me of the people in the old folks’ home where my grandparents lived. They never liked doing what was good for them either. They had their habits and beliefs. They’d gotten them this far, so why should they change now?
“Grandchildren always think they know what’s best,” Grandpa said. “And yes, maybe this generation actually does with their warrior ways. But not when it comes to nutrition!”
Stari swallowed one of the red jellies.
“See?” she said. “It’s not going to kill you.”
“Maybe not today,” Grandpa said. “Now, has my granddaughter explained to you what we need your help with?”
“You want to find the location of the Changeling’s TV control room,” I said.
“That’s right!” he said. “If only we still had our engineers. Then we could have learned its location years ago. They killed our smartest people. They believed them to be their greatest threat.”
“I already told her our history, Grandpa,” Stari said.
“For a long time, they were right,” Grandpa said, continuing as if Stari hadn’t said a word. “But they were also wrong. Every creature with a mind to be free is a threat to them. Smart or stupid, like old Grandpa. We’re ready to give them a fight they won’t soon forget. I can promise you, that once we have retaken our planet, I will ensure you return home safely, no matter what it takes.”
“Thank you,” I said. “I hope I won’t let you down.”
“You won’t, my dear,” he said, placing his hand on mine. “I know a good egg when I see one and I don’t think they come much gooder than you.”
I was touched he thought so but there was something I didn’t understand.
“How will you take the Changelings down when I find what you need?” I said.
“We’ll attack with everything we have,” Grandpa said. “We’ll breach the earth and descend upon them with our ships and our weapons and destroy the Control Room. Once we do that, it’ll be like severing a link in a chain. The other Control Rooms will fall one after the other. Then the other sections will be free to attack.”
That took
