The Way of the Ram Read online

  IN SHEEP’S CLOTHING

  Book 2: The Way of the Ram

  By Kevin C Hensley

  Part of the Nexus Nebula Saga

  Copyright © 2018 by Kevin C Hensley

  All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, distributed, or transmitted in any form or by any means, including photocopying, recording, or other electronic or mechanical methods, without the prior written permission of the publisher, except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical reviews and certain other noncommercial uses permitted by copyright law. For permission requests, write to the publisher at: [email protected].

  Edited by KC Moffatt of TheStoryMechanic.com.

  Cover by Mariah Sinclair of TheCoverVault.com.

  Look at illustrations and get news about upcoming books on Instagram at @k.c.hensley.nns. You can also contact the author on Twitter at @TheChuggReport or on Goodreads.com.

  Keep an eye out for NexusNebulaSaga.com, set to go live in early 2019.

  For Fred

  Chapter 1

  “Get him in the restraints.”

  “Warden, he’s not just some sheep, this is—”

  “I said restrain him, damn it.”

  Two pigs in white lab coats stood near a jail cell with bars nearly as thick as their necks. Another step closer and they’d be within arm’s reach of the creature staring from inside the cell.

  The warden, obese and piebald Guz, glared at them from a much safer distance. “Do I need to call the boss on you, Swill? You’re in hot water as it is for slowing down our project.”

  “No, no. Just hold on.” Swill used the sleeve of his lab coat to wipe sweat off his glasses. He motioned to his assistant, Tuck. “Try the tranquilizer.”

  “You saw how much good that did at the gate! Our darts just bounced off him.”

  “That’s right.” Swill thought for a second. “Guz, we’ll have to borrow some of the guards. Have them bring the prods.”

  Guz jerked his head. A pair of bulldogs came running down the hall. In their teeth, each of them clenched a three-foot rod with a humming electrode at one end.

  The warden pointed. “Drive him back from the bars so we can open the door.”

  Both dogs stepped up to the bars, took hold of their weapons in their paws, and jammed them into the cell. The electrodes crackled to life on contact with the cell’s occupant, flinging sparks in all directions. The creature’s roar echoed off the bare cinderblock walls.

  A hairy, clawed hand seized hold of one of the shock sticks, yanking it and its wielder toward the bars. The bulldog dropped the prod and turned to get away. The beast’s other arm shot out and seized hold of his collar. His shoulder slammed against the bars and he was lifted off his hind feet, gagging and pulling against the strangling grip.

  “Now!” Guz snapped. The other guard leapt away and unlocked the cell, darting in while the beast was occupied. Swill and Tuck followed the guard in. Guz hung back.

  “Pick up that prod!” Swill called to his assistant. Tuck sprang forward and grabbed the shock stick off the floor.

  “Leave him alone!” a feminine voice called from a dark corner of the cell. “Mauler, let go! Everyone calm yourselves!”

  Tuck jammed the instrument into the side of the beast’s neck, making him flinch and release his hold on the guard’s collar.

  “Don’t let up!” Guz called from outside the cell. “Drive him back until we can cuff him!”

  Tuck and the other guard kept their prods in contact with Mauler’s body, ignoring his caterwauling and pushing him against the far wall. The flashes of sparks from the electrodes illuminated the dim corner and the red wooden bird standing there.

  Swill edged forward, a pair of heavy manacles held out in front of him. Mauler bared his sharp teeth and screamed.

  “Stop this!” the voice from the bird puppet cried out.

  Tuck’s head turned in her direction, a pouting grimace on his face. In his moment of distraction, his prod drifted away from Mauler’s body. The beast was freed up to swat the other stick aside. He leapt onto the bulldog and pinned him to the floor.

  “Hey. HEY!” Guz roared.

  Mauler stopped to look. The warden had crept into the corner and grabbed hold of the wooden bird. In his trotter he held a beaten and chipped metal blade.

  The beast’s eyes narrowed. “Let Ponder go.”

  “Go with these men,” Guz hissed, “or I’ll start chiseling pieces off of her.”

  “Ignore him,” the red bird gasped. “If you let them do anything to you, Mauler…”

  Mauler’s nostrils flared. “I should have killed you, pig.”

  “Yeah, probably.” Guz shrugged.

  Swill moved forward. Mauler sighed, stood, and allowed him to place the cuffs.

  “There’s still a problem,” the scientist said. “With that armored skin of his, how are we going to obtain the samples we need?”

  Mauler stared at him. “Samples?”

  “For starters, we need your blood.”

  Guz scraped the point of the rusted blade across Ponder’s chest, leaving a thin scratch in her paint. “You’d better figure something out before the boss has to get involved.”

  Gritting his teeth, Mauler bowed his head. “Fine.”

  “Fine, what?”

  “I will drop the protection granted to me by Karkus. Take what you need. Just don’t hurt Ponder.”

  Wiping away another sheen of sweat, Swill withdrew a syringe from his pocket and approached the much larger creature. “I’ve got to make sure you’re telling us the truth,” he stammered with an air of apology.

  “Do what you have to do.”

  Ponder gasped. “Mauler, do not let them hurt you.”

  “Better me than you.” Mauler winced as Swill jabbed the needle into his arm and injected a clear fluid.

  “There,” Swill said. “He’s not lying.”

  Mauler sank to the floor, his eyes rolling back. Guz grinned. “Good. Chain him up and take him down to the lab.” His smile became a scowl as he looked at the young technician, Tuck. “You almost got my guard killed, you twit. We’ll deal with you later.”

  Chapter 2

  Slog fiddled with the Chugg National Bank & Trust pin on his tie and tried to look confident. The last time he had let one of these ungrateful sheep get this close, it hadn’t ended well for him. The memory of that hulking sheep assaulting him on the stairs of the bank still gave him anxiety, even though justice had prevailed and the offender had been dragged off to be sacrificed.

  Above the pig, the eye-like security camera swiveled on its perch to take in the whole office. That told Slog that someone was watching. He faced the two sheep across his desk and pretended to be at ease.

  “I’m told you gentlemen have a very interesting proposal,” he said. He tugged at his tie, as if it were the reason his voice sounded so strained.

  The two young sheep exchanged an even glance. One of them, tall and broad, had wool as white as the day he was born. The other was shorter and slimmer, with light grey fleece and a strained look about him.

  “Here’s what we’ve got so far,” the white one answered. He half-slid, half-tossed a bound and laminated booklet across the desk.

  Slog took a minute to peruse the material, not taking his eyes off the sheep for more than a few seconds at a time. After skimming to the end of these sheep’s business pitch, he tossed it back to them.

  “Not happening,” he scoffed. “Even if the bank were willing to give a business loan to sheep, your numbers are wildly off. You can’t do what you are proposing to do with so little expense. You’ve left out all kinds of supply costs.”

  “We won’t need any of that,” said the white sheep. He looke
d at his partner. “Better show him.”

  “Agreed.” The tense grey sheep slid off his chair and started to walk around the desk.

  “Hey, stay away,” Slog warned. He upended his chair in his scramble to back into the corner. “I’ll call security.”

  “Wow, that big guy really did a number on your face,” the grey sheep said over him. “What’s it been, six months? Your nose is still crooked.”

  Slog gasped. “You… you saw that?” He glanced back at the security camera.

  “Oh, yes. I was right there. Out front, on the stairs. Durdge had to step in. Come to think of it, that camera up there looks like Durdge’s eye, doesn’t it?” The sheep kept advancing.

  “Th-then you saw what happened when that brute laid a hoof on me,” Slog stammered. “Wait, what’s…”

  The sheep’s eyes glowed green. Slog felt an unnerving grinding in his snout and realized the cracked bone and warped cartilage were shifting back into place.

  He raised a shaking trotter and felt his nose. “You… you’re the Healer.”

  “That’s right.” The sheep reached for the booklet and waved it in Slog’s face. “Take another look, huh?”

  “S-sure.” Slog took the proposal while the white sheep set the fallen chair upright and gestured for the pig to sit back down. Everyone returned to their places, and the two sheep waited for Slog to compose himself.

  “I still don’t see the point,” Slog said after a few minutes of more careful reading. “You do know how this works, right? Even though the insurance companies pay out a lot for injured sheep’s hospital bills, they’re all under the same banner. Even the portions that go into the sheep’s pockets get spent on Chugg products. All money makes it back to Chugg eventually.”

  Healer waved a hoof. “This part goes over my head. Swifter, can you explain it to him?”

  The white sheep grinned and leaned forward. “There’s a hidden cost, friend. Productivity. Every day a sheep spends in the hospital is another day they’re not at their desk, or another missed shift at the quarry. Give the insurance payouts to us—heck, we’ll take half of what the hospital charges—and we’ll have those sheep back on the line the next day.”

  The camera in the ceiling was not a biological eye, but all three of them thought they saw it flash.

  “Alright.” Slog sighed. “You really think you can have this place up and running in a year?”

  “Absolutely.”

  “Then I’ll call and let you know whether it’s approved or denied. You should know, though, there are going to be some conditions.”

  Healer raised an eyebrow. “Such as?”

  ✽✽✽

  ATTENTION ALL CITIZENS OF UPTOWN MEGATROPOLIS.

  THIS IS A BROADCAST FROM THE CHUGG CORPORATION.

  WE ARE PLEASED TO ANNOUNCE THAT WE ARE BREAKING GROUND ON A NEW FACILITY INSIDE THE CORPORATE COMPOUND.

  THIS IS A SECURE BUILDING THAT WILL HOUSE UP TO TWO THOUSAND PEOPLE COMFORTABLY FOR AN EXTENDED PERIOD OF TIME.

  THIS FACILITY WILL BE THE DESIGNATED GATHERING POINT FOR ANY EMERGENCY EVACUATION. IT IS INTENDED TO PROTECT PIGS IN THE EVENT OF NATURAL DISASTER OR SHEEP RIOT.

  ALL CITIZENS ARE FORBIDDEN FROM DISCLOSING DETAILS ABOUT THIS FACILITY TO NON-PIGS. NO MENTION OF THIS NEW CONSTRUCTION WILL BE MADE OUTSIDE OF MEGATROPOLIS WALLS.

  PUBLIC ADDRESS SYSTEM PROVIDED AND FUNDED BY THE CHUGG CORPORATION.

  ✽✽✽

  Chapter 3

  One Year Later

  “If you had seen the miracle we saw, sheep, you would not be so indifferent now! While you sit in cubicles and browse in stores, the Prophet of Optera languishes in prison! Will you not take action?”

  The tinny, warbling voice caught Dreamer’s attention as she emerged from Fleece City’s gardening store, laden with her purchases. She moved through the Sunday shopping crowd, making her way across the square in the direction of the bronze fountain.

  Standing on the rim of the fountain’s bowl in front of a little microphone and speaker was Wender, the mail-carrying blue jay. His feathers were ruffled; he hopped around in a fit of passion that seemed to overwhelm his tiny body.

  A group of rough-looking birds stood on the fountain and the surrounding sidewalk. Hawks, magpies, screech owls, grackles, and even a pair of familiar ravens kept a protective formation around Wender.

  “The Church of the Goddess is dissolved!” Wender crowed. “We spread the word of Optera with the best of intentions, but we were only contributing to the pigs’ system of control over you. We have seen our error! Join us in taking real freedom for yourselves!”

  Dreamer was the only one who had stopped to listen. She had heard of birds holding rallies like this in Fleece City, but this was the first time she had been in town to see it.

  “What do you say, sheep? Have we not always looked out for you? Have birds and sheep not been on friendly terms? We were led astray from you, but no longer. We birds have thrown off the control of pigs and are united in purpose. We want to be your allies against the abuse of pigs and the dogs that serve them. Will you join us? March for freedom together?”

  The sheep in the square walked by. They must have heard all this before. Dreamer shut out the sights and background noise, focusing on the emotions around her instead. She felt Wender’s determination, tainted by a vague, burgeoning discouragement. She felt the willful ignorance of the sheep around her, their social conditioning pushing out the questions Wender’s words stirred in them.

  And something else. Anger? No. Cooler. Deeper. Not a quick flame, but a long-burning ember. Feels like hatred.

  Adjusting the shoulder strap of her satchel, Dreamer turned away from Wender to look for the source. Surely an emotion that strong didn’t belong to one of these sheep.

  There. Above her and across the square, she saw the figure watching the scene from atop the town hall. The building was backlit by the sun, so she couldn’t see much other than a silhouette, but she glimpsed off-white eyes and a bald, sharp face.

  Wender trailed off in mid-sentence, his gaze attracted by the violet eyes caught in the sunlight. He pointed to her.

  “Dreamer the Goddess-Eyes,” he said with a smile. “Care to say something? I bet the people will listen to you.”

  She frowned at him, shook her head, and tried to duck back into the crowd.

  “Fair enough.” Wender nodded. “But if…” He stopped as he looked up in the direction Dreamer had been staring. His little black eyes narrowed.

  The figure above them spread charcoal-grey wings to glide down from the town hall’s roof. The shadow passing over the square got the attention of the passersby. They parted as the towering condor landed on the sidewalk, blocking Dreamer’s path.

  “Finally decided to get involved, Specter?” Wender hissed, puffing out his downy chest. “You’ve been creeping around our rallies long enough. Got something to say?”

  Dreamer glared at the old wretch in front of her. Specter looked even more haggard than the last time she had seen him; his lower eyelids were dark purple, his face hollow and waxy, his body missing patches of feathers. But his psychic presence was as alive as any that Dreamer had ever encountered.

  It’s as though he’s been living off his anger all this time.

  “You have no authority to shut us down,” Wender continued, “so you best be on your way.”

  “That’s not why I’m here,” Specter replied, a nasty smile forming on his face. “Like you, I’ve seen the error of my ways. I’m here to join your cause.”

  “No, you’re not,” Dreamer blurted out. She immediately regretted it. I swore I was done putting myself in the middle of this.

  Wender laughed. “It doesn’t take the power of the Goddess-Eyes to see your true intent, Specter. We all know what’s happened.” He raised his voice to address the crowd. “Specter was exiled by Optera herself after his lies were exposed. That makes him useless to the pigs, of course, so they fired him too. For his lack of loyalty to the birds, he’s lost everythi
ng. Now he’ll try anything in order to get back into the pigs’ good graces. Especially by undermining our efforts to get our Prophet back.”

  Specter bristled. Turning his full attention to the other birds, he stepped around Dreamer and began to walk toward them. Dreamer stayed in one spot, still unsure just how involved she should get.

  Wender’s companions closed ranks around him. Each individual bird was much smaller than Specter, but in a group the threat they presented was clear. Rather than continue to approach, Specter stopped on the sidewalk and pointed a talon.

  “You two,” he snapped. “Let’s go.”

  The two ravens shifted, exchanging a nervous glance. Wender raised a foot and placed it on the shoulder of the one nearest him.

  “You’re not breaking us apart that easily,” the blue jay scoffed. “These two truly believed in the Church and thought the world of you. After being chastised by Optera, they came to us with sincerity. Unlike you, they know they were wrong.”

  Emboldened by Wender’s words, the two ravens glared at Specter. Finally, the old condor faltered.

  “Have it your way,” he said, turning away and spreading his tattered wings. With one last pointed glare at Dreamer, Specter took to the sky and left the square.

  Wender glanced at the other birds and the sheep around them. “I think that’s enough for today,” he muttered, barely audible through the speaker. “Let’s pack it in, boys.”

  He caught Dreamer’s eye. She gave him a slow nod before her thoughts turned inward.

  That’s the way. The pigs and their proxies can’t do anything against a united front. If these birds could get the city sheep to see things their way… reconcile with the quarry sheep… maybe reach out to the dogs after…

  She put it out of mind. Planning a revolution was not why she had come to Fleece City today. She shifted her bag and began to scan for a store that would have the school supplies she needed.

  Looking across the square, she caught sight of someone she hadn’t seen in a long time. Intrigued, she hurried along the sidewalk and into the big mall through the Chugg Apparel entrance.