Free Hera by Chrystalla Thoma Page B

years back, if they came so
close to emerging victorious from the accursed Great War, how come
they had been branded as mindless animals by the scriptures? And,
worse still, how come the Gultur believed this to be true? Hera had
never had immediate contact with mortals, not yet being of age, but
she’d seen them from afar, laboring in their algae fields, driving
aircars, bartering and counting money and talking with the guards.
Surely animals could not do that – at least not the animals Hera
had observed and studied so far; the cats, dogs, rats, birds and
all the sea animals. They did not look so different from the
Gultur, either. Less intelligent they might be, cruel perhaps, but
animals without a conscience?
    And now this...worm in her heart, twisting
and boring deeper, echoing words from an old parchment meant for
anybody and nobody, and certainly not for her.
    She should not have let that damn message
unsettle her so. She should have burned it, not kept it hidden
under her mattress.
    She should have destroyed it once and for
all.
    Movement caught her eye, snapping her
thoughts in half. She grabbed Sacmis’ shoulder, drawing a sharp
breath. “Drive closer to that cliff. I think I saw movement.”
    She was not sure she’d seen it. Early
daylight reflected off the broken mirrors of the waves, torturing
her eyes. But it might be an illegal mortal boat, sailing around
the islands to set up fish traps or nets. Mortals were only allowed
on land, and to cross between the islands they had to use the
bridges or the official ferries. The sea was not theirs to
command.
    The sea belonged to the Gultur. It was the
way things were since the Great War – a strict clause in the peace
treaty with the lesser mortals, and one of the security measures
taken by the Gultur administration.
    As if there was somewhere the mortals could
escape to. As if there was anything beyond the Seven Islands.
Beyond, said the historical and the sacred writings, lay only the
great ocean.
    If only her mother’s message did not hint at
other, far more complicated and all too unpleasant things.
    “Are you sure? I see nothing there.” And yet
Sacmis obeyed, veering toward the steep coast. The cliffs towered
over them, sparkling wet with crags and projections. Seagulls
flapped off their roosting places, and a sea eagle rose a dark
shadow outlined on the light blue of the sky. Waves crashed against
the rock formations, carving them into sharp pinnacles and round
wheels. Shoals of silver fish jumped out of the water and dove back
in like sprays of bullets.
    No movement. Hera surreptitiously rubbed her
eyes, wondering if she had imagined it, but had to admit that
nothing suspect appeared to be there. She really was out of sorts.
“Turn around. Head north again.”
    Sacmis chewed on her lower lip in what looked
like an attempt not to laugh. “Sure. Well, at least you’ll write in
your report that I obeyed without a single question, will you
not?”
    Sacmis’ record of obedience was not the best
and they both knew it. It was this defiance that had first endeared
her to Hera. Not many Gultur seemed inclined to oppose authority in
any way.
    “We shall see.” Hera grinned as they headed
again north, the exhilaration of her first patrol finally catching
up with her. Dakron exhaust fumes filled her nostrils as the
wavebreaker accelerated, passing outside the dark expanses
interspersed with lights that were the towns of Priene, Thuri and
Elatia. Breath catching in her throat, Hera watched the coast
markers until they passed the beacon of Gortyn, her mother’s words
forgotten for a moment.
    In all their training patrols, they had never
gone that far north. This coastline stretch was completely new to
her. They sped by enormous pillars jutting out of the deep sea like
towers. In the distance to her far right, something glinted and
moved.
    “A whale!” Sacmis whooped. “We have to report
it to the HQ. Red meat!”
    The gray-black whale, a humpback, large as