“What does that mean?”
“Usually it means that the member of the family concerned—and it is seldom specific—is in danger but alive. If it is saddled and trailing its reins, it means someone is either close to death or has died.” Niamh reached for Mary’s hand. “If James is right, we can expect news that Harry has been found.”
“I hope so, Niamh. The uncertainty is horrible.”
Niamh hugged her, and Mary felt better. She managed a brave smile. “And I shall take him to task when I see him. He promised to stay out of trouble!”
The alternative exit from the prison proved to be far more tortuous than Leonard had implied, but he had been correct in his assumption that none of the Enforcers knew of its existence. It took some effort to gain access to the space, originally a hoistway, but now disused. The cables for the lift provided the means to reach a vertical ladder built into the side of the shaft, and there was a long climb to reach the winding chamber where a partially stripped-down motor sat forlorn and unserviceable. Unfortunately, the tunnel it gave access to had been colonised by a rather unpleasant rodent-like creature that resented their presence.
“These damned critters are taking over everywhere I go in the service spaces,” Leonard remarked. “I have to carry a pneumo-gun in some of the more remote ones now. At least they’re edible, but that’s about all they’re good for!” He hit a switch and lights flickered. “Damn, looks like they’ve chewed the cable again. Oh well, this way.”
“This place is worse than a badger sett,” Harry remarked. “It must have taken a vast amount of labour to create these.”
“It did.” Boris was silent for a moment. “Our ancestors decided the only way to survive was to go underground in a place they could defend against things like the sand dragons, so they dug these tunnels. They told everyone it was necessary to protect them from radiation poisoning, which seems plausible. According to the story my grandfather told, the ship had suffered some damage that meant it was poisoning everyone on board. A lot of folk died building this place, and they’d barely finished when the plague hit.”
Harry nodded wordlessly, his attention focussed on the occasional machine that came into view and brief glimpses into adjoining chambers and galleries occupied by what appeared to be elaborate steam engines, most now idle and partly dismantled. “That may explain a number of puzzles here.” He waved toward yet another idle machine. “Are these being dismantled to maintain others?”
“Yes. I don’t have the training or the equipment to make a lot of the spares we need, nor does anyone else, so I come up here and salvage what I need. No one asks where it comes from. Most of the stuff we use was made by the first generation of ancestors. Since then we’ve just sort of patched things up.” He shrugged. “This part of the city was abandoned two, maybe three generations back, and I’ve just about dismantled everything to keep the rest going.” He smiled. “Eventually I’ll run out of things I can use, or someone else will.”
Harry nodded. “If our signal is heard, we may be able to help you before that happens.” He paused. “That is, if we can find something to eat and drink, and stay out of the hands of your Council until then.”
“Food and water aren’t a problem,” said Leonard. “The other part depends on how long we have to hide.” They had reached a new door. “This used to be a residential area. No one has lived here for four generations at least.” He led the way into a large hall with openings at regular intervals. “In my great-great-great-grandfather’s day, this was a merchant hall. My father said that each of these apartments was the shop of a trader or craftsman. I wish I could have seen that.”
“Perhaps you will again, but first we must find the reason your lives are shortening so.” Harry turned to the doctor. “I think you have an idea as to the cause, Medico.” He smiled. “Or may I call you Boris?”
The doctor looked surprised. “Yes, by all means, and I do have some ideas. My father had a theory, and I think I’ve found something to support it.” He indicated the hall. “This was originally the main plaza for trade, but then it was reserved for the Council Families, and then, when they couldn’t support the trade any longer, they closed it down.”
“Yes, but they also forgot some of the little secrets it held.” Leonard grinned in the partial light. “Like the service rooms above the Command Chamber. They can only be reached from the service passage here.” He laughed, the sound echoing. “They’ll never think of looking for us there, and from that vantage point, we can reach the storage rooms where the food supplies are held.”
The fugitives awoke on the third day to the sound of angry voices from the Command Chamber.
“How should I know what this plague is? I’m not the Medico!”
“Yes, and now we haven’t got one at all.”
Harry moved to where the Boris and Leonard were listening to the voices at one of the spyholes, actually a small opening that had once provided a fixing point for some long removed device. Boris held a finger to his lips and pointed to another opening. Beneath them the voices were becoming louder.
“Enforcers!”
“No good calling in your personal thugs, Captain. They’re down with the plague, remember?”
“And you’re the one gave the order for the Medico to be imprisoned,” snarled another officer.
“He committed mutiny! Don’t come all innocent on me, you were all there when Purser reported him. I acted to stop them.” There was a moment of silence. “You know what will happen if the workers find out the truth about the Enviros—or about the strangers.”
“What should we do?”
“First, we have to find the Medico and the Mechanist. We need them to keep things running and to deal with this plague.” He waited for this to sink in. “We have to find these strangers as well, and kill them. I’ve taken steps to punish the Hunters that brought them here in the first place. Ignorant fools. Their leader will meet with an accident and be replaced by a man less prone to independent thinking.”
“Yes, all very well, but the absence of the Enforcers will be noticed.”
“Not if we make sure some Enforcers are still on active duty.”
“But they’re all in isolation.”
“They are, but we aren’t. Some of us are going to wear their armour and make sure we’re seen. Plus, I’m thinning the number of guards on the mine, and they’ll do the searching for our escapers.” He paused. “They’ll do some of the patrolling as well. They’ll enjoy that. They’re brutes, so anyone falling afoul of them will no doubt get a beating, but that will help keep the rest in line.”
Harry whispered to Boris, “I hope some of them wear the armour our original guards wore. Should be an interesting experience for them.” His smile was conspiratorial.
Boris grinned. “Oh yes. Now that will be justice.”
“Drop out in one minute,” Pack Leader Lucanes growled.
Ferghal nodded, listening to the Lagan as she prepared to exit hyperspace. Already the ship was switching systems, bringing online those she needed, and shutting down those which the exit from transit would render redundant until they next went hyper. The seconds ticked away, and with the familiar slight shudder, the command display lit up showing the 360-degree view of the space around them. The corvette and the Lacertian patrol ship appeared against the backdrop of false colour three-dimensional imagery a nanosecond later.
“Seana and 847 on station, sir.”
Ferghal acknowledged the report, his eyes seeking the planet they wanted, his mind searching for the signal source. “Tell 847 and Seana to take their positions for triangulation of the signal source.” As the planet came into view, he tried to identify any body of water. Surely Harry would be near that. There didn’t seem to be any.
The Canid and Lacertian ships vanished from the display and reappeared as pinpoints of light in positions on either beam of the Lagan and equidistant ahead of her. “If the transmitter is here, we should pick up its si
gnal in five minutes.”
“That place looks pretty bleak, sir.”
Ferghal nodded, his forehead creased and his eyes hard. “Aye, it does. What evil mind would choose such a place to maroon a man?” He turned to the scan operator. “Is there any water on that planet?”
The TechRate adjusted her scanners. “Yes, sir, but it seems to be deep below ground. There’s quite a network of caverns below the surface.”
“Any life—animal or human?”
She adjusted the instruments again. “Yes, sir. Pretty sparse and difficult to say what it is. Looks like animals—big ones, some in groups, others singletons.”
“Leader,” said Regidur, who appeared on the small holoscreen at Ferghal’ side. “We have recorded an impact or explosion site. It is recent. Do you wish me to investigate it?”
Ferghal felt a cold hand clutch his stomach. “Wait until we locate that signal, my friend. Then, yes, we must investigate it.”
“Signal coming in!” The TechRate frantically adjusted his receivers. “Hell, it’s loud. No wonder it’s tripping the hyperlinks.” He listened for a second. “It’s them! It’s Commander Heron!”
Ferghal was out of his seat. “Acknowledge it!” He was beaming with delight. “I knew he’d survive.” He danced a little Irish jig to the astonishment of his crew. “Sure an’ he’s too much the sinner for heaven to take him yet—an’ hell itself would be afraid to!” For a moment longer he danced back and forth, his mood infectious. “Have they replied?”
“No reply, sir, but there is a homing signal.”
Ferghal’s delight evaporated. He sank into his seat. “Then they have trouble. Navigation, put us on course to the location of that beacon.” He nodded to the weapons officer. “Lieutenant, prepare a landing party. You will lead them in the launch. Pack Leader, you have command. I’m going down in the gig. I’ll take two Marines with me.”
As the door slid closed behind him the scan officer turned to Lucanes. “God help the people who did this if he finds Commander Heron dead. They’ll wish for death if he finds them. Frankly, I wouldn’t want to try and stop him either.”
The Canid purred. “I agree, but they will be sorrier if my people or the Lacertians find them.”
Harry and his companions were enjoying the spectacle below them. Some of the council had evidently tried on the armour used by the Enforcers, and were now suffering the effects of the powder that Boris had lined them with. The shouting and accusations had reached hysterical levels.
“Boris, I think we may have to intervene to prevent murder being committed at this rate.”
The doctor glanced at him with a strange expression. “Why? They’re responsible for hundreds of deaths among the working folk here. They have run this place entirely for their own comfort and benefit for almost all of our history. If they kill each other here and now, we’ll be rid of them.”
“Until some new tyrant arises. No, my friend, we must do this differently. If you have evidence of their having committed a crime against your people, then we will try them according to the law.” Harry studied Boris and Leonard, then the scene below. Already blows were being exchanged and some of the participants were bloodied. There were more people now, some of them women. “Have you any of that medication you used to knock down the Enforcers?”
Boris shook his head. “No. I would have if I could reach my medical supplies, but I can’t. Not without showing ourselves.”
Harry looked down again. “We’ll have to do something.” He shook his head. “These woman are as bad as their men!” He watched as a woman attacked one of the men with a metal ornament. “Worse, I think.” He got up. “Come on, we have to stop them. Warrant, find us something we can use to defend ourselves.”
The gig descended rapidly, the launch keeping station to port, two escorting strike craft from Seana keeping company to starboard. “Some sort of dome structure crowning that crater rim, sir. The signal is coming from somewhere directly beneath it.”
“Find us a landing place close to it then.” The crater opened up as they turned to find a place to touch down, revealing a patchwork of fields and parks. Figures looked up gesticulating wildly. Some ran, some aimed odd looking weapons at the descending craft.
“Do not return fire,” Ferghal barked. He touched his comlink. “Lieutenant, order your landing party to make sure they use only the stun settings on their weapons.” He studied the various figures on his screen. “Some of them look like slaves. Look, they’re manacled. Target only the ones with weapons if you have to.”
“As you command, Sword Wielder.”
He tapped the link to close it. “Take us down, Coxswain. Land on the ledge at that Observatory structure. Marines, you lead the way as soon as we’re down. Stun only, I want people I can talk to, not dead bodies.” He scowled. “That may come later,” he added under his breath, adjusting his grip on the cutlass he always carried into battle.
Chapter 20
Cultural Collision
_________________________
Harry followed Boris and Leonard down a tight staircase. He, the Warrant Officer and the TechRate carried heavy clubs, but Boris and Leonard were unarmed.
“Boris, we’ll lead the way from the door. You two stay behind us and watch our backs.” He hefted a large metal funnel they’d found. “Leonard, unlock the door, then get behind us.” He turned to Boris. “You said this door is behind one of the portrait panels, right?”
“Yes, directly behind the Captain’s chair.”
Harry grinned. “Perfect. Then here goes.” He swallowed carefully, moistening his mouth and his throat as he’d been taught to do centuries earlier. Then he filled his lungs, eased the narrow end of the funnel to his mouth and pushed the door. It swung clear revealing the mass of struggling and shouting people. “Silence,” he bawled at the top of his voice and stepped into the chamber. “Do not move!”
The order was deafening, shaking dust from the ceiling as the sound rolled and roared throughout the chamber. The tableau froze. Then with astonishment, all eyes turned toward them.
“That’s better. Now I commend to you the chairs you have overturned. Sit down, all of you. Those of you holding any instrument that can cause anyone injury, place it on the floor immediately.”
There was a rustle of movement as most of those present complied without hesitation. Out of the corner of his eye, Harry sensed a movement and ducked just in time. The pop of compressed air was loud. So was the thud as the metal slug buried itself in the panel to his left. Then there was a second thud, partly the sound of something soft absorbing a blow, and partly metallic as a blunt instrument struck the man holding the air gun, who let out a screech of rage and demanded, “How dare you strike—!”
But Mike Dorfling’s fist silenced him when it smashed into his jaw and sent him skidding across the floor and crashing off the platform. Mike followed him, grabbed two fists full of the Captain’s ill-fitting armour, lifted him clear of the ground and flung him into a chair so hard it capsized. “Move again, you little piece of shite, and I’ll tear you limb from bloody limb, Commander Heron’s orders or no!” He advanced on the limp figure as people shuffled back to leave a clear space around him. The message was wasted on the Captain, as he was unconscious, but it sank into the consciousness of the rest of the assembly.
Mike glared at the widening circle. “I’ve had it with you back-assward cavemen—”
“Thank you, Mr. Dorfling, that will do.” Harry had to raise his voice to check the angry man.
Dorfling took a deep breath then stepped back and stood next to Harry. “Aye, aye, sir. I got carried away. I despise bastards who shoot their enemies from the back, sir.”
“Quite so,” Harry said in a quiet voice to Mike, then raised his voice so all could hear. “Now, ladies and gentlemen, I am Commander Henry Nelson-Heron of the NECS Lagan, and I must tell you that other than your Medico and Mechanist, I have not been particularly impressed by the savage w
elcome you have shown us or your behaviour toward one another.” He indicated the fallen Captain. “Since your leader appears to be temporarily incapacitated, who is his deputy?”
Before anyone could respond, the door burst open. “Airships! The Enviros have airships! They’ve landed—and they’re attacking. They’re killing all the valley guards and everyone they see.” The man’s terror showed.
Everyone stood rooted to the spot in stunned silence.
“They’re coming this way—NOW!” he shrieked.
There was instant chaos as the assembly leapt to their feet shouting orders and ignoring Harry. Above the din, the Warrant Officer shouted, “I think the Fleet have arrived, sir. Let’s get out of here and find a way to get to them.”
Harry nodded. “Follow me.” He grabbed the arms of Boris and Leonard and steered them through the doorway into the staircase with Mike and Jack close behind. “Leonard, secure this door, and then I want you to take us the shortest way to the outside. The Enviros that frightened man alluded to are our people, the Fleet, and we need to get to them as soon as possible to prevent a tragedy. They’ll use a take-no-prisoners approach if a certain flame-haired Irish Commander is in charge….”
Ferghal followed his Marines as they advanced into the Observatory, checked it, then led the way down the stairs to Leonard’s workshop. He stood a moment and took it all in. “That coms unit is hidden here somewhere.” He peered at the machines. “These things are antiques.” He laughed. “Not quite as old as me, but old. Look, some are almost worn out.”
“Yes, sir.” The Coxswain frowned. “The scanner says it’s under this one, sir.” There’s some kind of chamber down there, but I’m damned if I can see how you get to it.”
Ferghal studied the four massive bolts that secured the thing to the floor. He frowned then very carefully gripped one, gave it a quarter turn and pulled. The thing came up quite easily. He grinned. “Cunning.” Quickly he examined the other bolts, withdrew two more and left the fourth while his men watched with puzzled expressions. “Warrant, push on that corner of the unit, please.”
Harry Heron: Hope Transcends Page 19
