Noble Conflict

by Malorie Blackman

  An hour went by and nothing happened. Everyone stayed perfectly hidden around the perimeter. Kaspar was on the treeline to the east of the sub-node. He lay in a shallow ditch hidden by a tamayada bush. He knew Janna was off to his left, but he couldn’t see her – she was too good for that. Over to his right, however, he could see another tamayada twitching suspiciously. He keyed his throat mike.

  ‘Hey, Hytner, stop fidgeting. That bush looks like it’s about to take off.’

  ‘Hell, Kas, I really need to pee,’ replied the anguished Hytner.

  ‘Hytner, you micro-bladdered twat,’ hissed Voss. ‘If you screw up this mission I will have you court-martialled, I kid you not. So either hold it or do it, but nobody moves until I say so.’

  ‘But, sir—’

  ‘And everybody stay off this channel unless you have something tactical to say.’

  Kaspar looked on sympathetically as he saw the bush stop waving. He hadn’t meant to drop Hytner in it but they couldn’t afford to make even one mistake. Another forty minutes went by before anyone spoke again on the CommLink.

  ‘Maintenance van just did a second slow drive-by on Purple One. Multiples on board, possibly three or more.’ That was from Gina on the main road to the north.

  ‘Roger that,’ replied Voss.

  A long-standing joke at the Academy was that the only reason for having numeracy and colour-blindness tests during the selection process was to allow for the use of the tactical mapping schema. Any selected area could be overlaid with a ‘target’ – a red bull’s-eye in the middle, surrounded by an amber ring, then yellow, green, blue, grey and purple – with the numbers one through twelve arranged around the edge like on a clock face, with twelve always pointing true north. They practised with it constantly and not just on training exercises.

  ‘Hey, check out the hot brunette at Green Three.’ ‘Hunk alert, Amber Twelve,’ and similar lines were not uncommon.

  ‘We’ve got four . . . correction, five unknowns entering Grey Six on foot – the same way we came. All armed,’ Janna whispered from her position at Blue Six.

  ‘Roger that. Weapons hot, people, but let them through,’ ordered Voss. ‘I want them right in the middle of it before we open up on them.’

  Kaspar switched his rifle from standby to active and tried to spot them. He couldn’t see the area code-named Grey Six from his position – it was shielded by a clump of trees and he was at Blue Five – but if Janna could see them then they were only metres away.

  ‘The van has parked up on Purple Two. We have three more Insurgents deploying on foot.’ Gina kept her voice low. ‘And they’re moving at a fair pace across the lawn towards the north of the building.’

  ‘Stand by,’ steadied Voss.

  Moments later, the five Insurgents Janna had reported came into view. They were dressed in everyday clothes and didn’t look around. They had the confident, single-minded gait of people who thought they had no need to worry.

  Man, are they in for a shock, thought Kas. It was going to be like shooting fish in a fish tank.

  The five stopped, looked around, then separated. Three split off to the left and headed towards the south-west corner of the building – no immediate threat there – but the other two were headed straight for Janna’s position. Using his scope, Kaspar sighted midway between them, but kept the other eye open so he could see all five. This was Janna’s call now.

  They kept advancing.

  Five metres . . .

  Four . . .

  Three . . .

  Two . . .

  Kas tightened his grip on his weapon and wondered if Janna planned to let them stand on her before firing. Just then, there was a sharp crack and a blue flash. It seemed to come almost vertically out of the ground and hit the guy on the left. Kaspar immediately shifted his aim onto the other guy and zapped him too while simultaneously shouting into his mike, ‘Contact Blue Six, contact Blue Six. Two bogies down.’

  He was already swinging his rifle around to the left to track the other three, but they had disappeared behind some trees. Janna was on her feet now and gave him a quick thumbs-up before running off to give chase. The comms loop was alive with reports.

  ‘Contact in Green Two. Three bogies down,’ came a smug report. Sounded like Mikey. ‘All the guys from the van are out for the count!’

  Oh, congratulations, thought Kaspar sarcastically. It couldn’t have been exactly hard to shoot three unsuspecting guys moving across a manicured lawn with no cover. Mikey needed to come play in the woods and try that.

  ‘Green Seven Contact. One bogie down.’

  Kaspar could visualize the area and could tell where the bad guys had been hit and where there was still a worrying silence. He dropped to one knee to consider his options.

  If I head back to Purple Six, I can cut off any attempt to double back to the road, Kaspar thought.

  He ran through the undergrowth, staying low, and headed towards where he thought someone might pop out. Sure enough, he emerged just in time to see two of the Insurgents running like rabbits towards the road. Kaspar fired at the guy in the lead, and he went down. Almost simultaneously, Hytner burst out of the trees and actually tripped over the second guy. Both their weapons went flying, so they would have been reduced to brawling on the ground – that’s if Mariska hadn’t arrived on the scene. A stun-shot would have zapped Hytner too, so she simply reversed her rifle and broke it over the Insurgent’s face.

  ‘Purple Six. Two bogies down,’ reported Kaspar.

  ‘Roger that. That’s all of them then,’ acknowledged Voss. ‘Bring them all round to Amber One ready for transport.’

  There was a general breakdown in strict loop procedure at that point, with a certain degree of whooping and congratulations. For once, Voss let it pass.

  Kaspar looked down at a face that resembled a hamburger. ‘Ouch. Do you think the Clinic throws in free facial reconstructive surgery?’ he asked no one in particular.

  Mariska beamed like a lighthouse as she helped Hytner carry the guy away. Kaspar knew better than to offer to help.

  He slung his rifle and collected an armful of dropped weapons. He was just about to rejoin the rest on the front lawn when he heard a faint noise behind him. He didn’t know exactly what it was, but he knew it wasn’t good. Letting one of the captured weapons fall to the ground, he swore theatrically, then bent to pick it up again. As his fingers reached for it, he suddenly dropped all the weapons, shot out his legs to propel him sideways out of the line of any incoming fire and rolled onto his stomach to face the oncoming threat. As he swung his rifle round into a firing position, he half expected to be confronted by a startled squirrel, but instead he saw a masked ninja crouching right in front of him. No weapon, not even the deadly dagger, and a dozen metres or so from cover. This was a shot he couldn’t miss. No ninja was fast enough to evade him now. As his gun came level and Kaspar’s finger closed on the trigger, his target looked directly at him – and removed the mask.

  It was Rhea.

  Kaspar had his gun pointed directly at her – and yet he hesitated. He brought the gun up to his shoulder and sighted directly, making him even less likely to miss, but still he held back. He watched her through the magnifying scope and she stared back at him. How long did the look last? It couldn't have been as long as he thought. His finger was still motionless on the trigger as she quickly turned and slipped away into the trees bordering the road.

  ‘Wilding? Are you going to honour us with your presence, or do you have a problem there?’ asked Voss over the comms.

  ‘No, sir,’ replied Kaspar. ‘No problem, I’ll be right there.’

  He’d let her go. She was a Crusader, worse still a ninja terrorist, and he’d let her escape. Kaspar could only hope that his decision wouldn’t turn round and bite a chunk out of him.

  But what else could he do? Rhea had saved his life.

  ‘Now we’re even,’ he whispered.

  Next time would be different.

  And there
would be a next time.

  23

  The ride back to base was a party.

  ‘I swear we didn’t really have to shoot the ones on the front lawn. They just dropped from sheer surprise when we opened up,’ said Gina.

  ‘Just as well considering how accurately you and Mikey shoot,’ jibed Janna.

  ‘Oh, that’s cold,’ Mikey said in mock outrage.

  ‘Hey, Mariska, it was nice to see you hurt someone who wasn’t one of us for a change. Exactly when did they teach us the break-a-gun-in-his-face technique? I must have been away that day.’ Hytner had been exiled to the back of the wagon on account of his rank pee smell, but was obviously still high enough on adrenalin to be daring.

  ‘Same day they taught us the don’t-trip-over-a-terrorist technique,’ she shot back.

  Hytner smiled in good grace at the hoots of laughter that followed.

  ‘That was fun!’ said Mikey. ‘Hey, Hytner, is it true you were so scared you wet yourself?’

  ‘Nah,’ said Gina. ‘Hytner wasn’t scared of the terrorists. It was Voss who made him water his legs.’

  ‘Now now, ladies. I really don’t know what you mean,’ added Voss, beaming from ear to ear. ‘For instance, I haven’t even dismembered anyone for opening fire before I gave the order.’ He looked pointedly at Janna.

  ‘C’mon, boss. I waited as long as I could,’ said Janna. ‘The guy was so close I practically had to shoot up his nose.’

  ‘That’s OK, Rindt. In combat you sometimes have to improvise. So long as we get the results, that’s fine.’

  The only ones not joining in the general jollity were Russell – who had a badly twisted knee and a dislocated shoulder caused by putting his size twelves in a rabbit hole, losing his footing and falling shoulder first against a tree – and Kaspar.

  ‘Has anyone got any painkillers?’ Russell begged. ‘I’m dying here.’

  Four or five bottles of painkillers were hurled in his direction.

  ‘Thanks, guys,’ Russell said drily. ‘Like I’m not hurting enough already.’ Flicking open the top of the one bottle he’d caught, he shook a couple into his mouth and downed them in one.

  ‘Want me to pop your shoulder back, Russell?’ asked Mariska.

  ‘Hell, no!’ Russell replied immediately. ‘You touch me, I’ll shoot you!’

  Everyone in the transport laughed.

  ‘Did you get any of the Insurgents, Kas?’ asked Gina.

  ‘Yeah, I got a couple,’ Kaspar replied.

  ‘Then why the long face? We did good.’

  ‘I’m just . . . Nothing. I’ve just got some stuff on my mind.’

  ‘Like what?’ asked Janna.

  ‘Like the ninja,’ said Mariska. ‘Right, Kaspar?’

  ‘What?’ said Kaspar, whipping his head round in her direction. Oh, hell! How did she know? Had she seen what he’d done?

  ‘The ninja,’ Mariska continued. ‘Isn’t that what you call them? Janna said you described them as little acrobatic bastards dressed in black who skulk around in the shadows. She told me that you reckon these attacks usually feature one or two of them, but today there wasn’t one.’

  Why on earth had Janna told Mariska what he’d said at the Clinic? OK, he hadn’t told Janna that his theory was confidential, but damn it, he hadn’t expected her to blab it all over the barracks. Kaspar cast a glance in Janna’s direction, who blushed and lowered her gaze to busy herself with checking her rifle.

  ‘Kinda disproves your theory, doesn’t it?’ Mariska pointed out.

  ‘Yeah,’ nodded Kaspar. ‘I guess it does.’ Only too aware that Voss was watching him, he added, ‘From now on I’ll stick to soldiering and I’ll leave the theorizing to others.’

  ‘Makes a change for you to get something wrong,’ smiled Mariska.

  Kaspar shrugged. Waves of relief washed through him, but they weren’t powerful enough to sweep away the guilt. He couldn’t help feeling he’d just made the worst mistake of his life.

  ‘Ninja,’ he heard Voss say with a chuckle. ‘Good name, Wilding! Good name.’

  24

  Back at base, everyone had to write up their ‘After Action reports’ describing everything they’d seen or done. Kaspar didn’t want to lie, but how could he admit in writing that he’d had one of the Insurgents in his sights and had let her escape? To keep quiet or not to keep quiet, that was the dilemma. He was still agonizing over what to do when Voss stuck his head round the door.

  ‘Wilding, the medic says that Russell’s leg might be pretty badly messed up and he should have a full scan. Since you don’t seem to be in a party mood, you can take him over to the Clinic and wait with him ’til he gets seen.’

  ‘Yes, sir.’

  Kaspar was only too glad to get out of his room and away from the din of what sounded like the others having one hell of a time. A trip off base was just what he needed to clear his head.

  A few minutes later, he helped Russell to hop across to a ground car and secured him inside. Then he drove them the five clicks to the Clinic. Neither spoke much. Russell was slightly out of it thanks to a couple of painkillers, and Kaspar was too busy thinking he had committed treason by not shooting Rhea when he had the chance.

  In just a few days, all the fixed points in his life seemed to have disappeared. First Dillon, and now his unshakeable views about ‘us against them’. The Insurgents were savage, evil. The historical texts all said so. Their actions screamed their true nature. Having ruined their own lands, they were intent on dominating those belonging to the Alliance. Over the decades, overt hostilities had evolved into covert terrorist acts. The Insurgents weren’t interested in peace. Their cause was nothing less than the total subjugation of the Alliance. They were heartless, ruthless murderers – and Rhea was one of them. So why hadn’t he fired on Rhea when he had the chance? What did that say about him?

  At last they reached the Clinic, which stood in the midst of huge, beautifully maintained grounds. Entry was via not one, but two rings of security fencing and Kaspar was frequently challenged to explain his presence. He had to show his ID so often it would’ve been quicker to glue it to his forehead. The last time he’d entered the Clinic had been as an escorted patient, so he hadn’t been subjected to all this hassle, but from the little he could remember, the procedures hadn’t been anywhere near as rigorous.

  ‘I wonder why all the security?’ asked Kaspar.

  ‘They’ve had a lot of thermometer thefts,’ replied Russell, still blissfully out of it.

  ‘No, seriously. Why so tight?’

  ‘You don’t know anything,’ said Russell with glee. ‘I shall tell you – for Dillon’s sake.’

  ‘Thank you,’ said Kaspar drily, wondering just how many painkillers Russell had taken. One thing was certain: it was more than the two he’d taken in the transport – and probably swallowed down with the help of a beer or five.

  ‘There are a lot of worthwhile targets here, my uninformed friend. It’s full of damaged Guardians like me. Plus Insurgents get treated and held in the detention cells here until they can be shipped off to maximum security. Plus it’s a major bio-medical research facility. Plus this is where they bring sick Council members. Remember last month when Sister Kepple had a suspected heart attack? Treated right here, she was, in the new cardio unit. Plus . . . plus—’

  ‘Yeah, thanks, I get it,’ Kaspar interrupted now that Russell was finally running out of steam.

  ‘They also step up the security when there’s a High Councillor in residence, so that must be the case. Am I right, or am I right?’ asked Russell. ‘Or am I right?’

  Kaspar sighed. When they came to a halt, he helped Russell onto the travelator that led to the main entrance, then went to Reception to book him in.

  The receptionist scanned their IDs yet again. ‘Sorry,’ she said. ‘Normally you could go straight in, but today we’ve had three major incidents so we’ve got lots of casualties to process. I’m afraid there might be quite a delay before we get to you, Guar
dian Russell.’

  ‘That’s OK,’ shrugged Russell. ‘I’m good, as long as I don’t have to walk or stand for too long. Plus’ – Russell leaned in further towards the receptionist and lowered his voice to that of a stage whisper – ‘plus, don’t tell anyone but I can’t walk or stand for too long.’

  At the receptionist’s bemused look, Kaspar explained. ‘Painkillers.’

  As they headed back to their seats, Russell said, ‘Kas, you may as well go.’

  ‘It’s all right. I’ll stay until you’re done. Besides, you’ll probably need help getting back to base,’ replied Kas. ‘But I wouldn’t mind taking a look around. I didn’t get to see much when I was a patient here.’

  ‘OK. I’ll comm you when I get seen by a doctor.’

  Kas didn’t need to be told twice. ‘See you later then.’

  The new part of the Clinic was ultramodern with a Major Trauma centre, a High-Dependency unit, a state-of-the-art Nuclear Medicine department with Imaging Laboratory, and a whole host of other specialist departments with names that Kaspar had never heard of – like LaserBaro Therapy. He wandered around for a while, reading the user-friendly info screens at the entrance to each section that described what they did, and a lot of it was truly amazing cutting-edge stuff.

  Eventually, he reached a door marked NORTH WING – ANNEXE. Kaspar could see through the window that it led to the old, disused building that used to house the Clinic before the new building had been built. The door was chained shut and a sign across it read: NO ENTRY. DANGER OF DEATH. A smaller notice underneath explained that a combination of dilapidation, hazardous building materials and low-level nuclear contamination from antique medical equipment made the old building unsafe, and that no one should enter without protective clothing and the permission of the Clinic’s Administrator.

  Kaspar turned right, strolled past the immaculate dining room, on through the kitchen and out into the gardens. They were beautifully kept, and the smell of the wild melon plants reminded him strongly of the farm. He tried to identify the species. It was definitely a wild type, but the variegated leaf looked like it belonged on the genetically engineered varieties that only grew in the vast hydroponic towers on farms. His inner farmer wondered how they had made that work, so he stepped off the path, ducked under the lowest branches and cleared away some bark chips and topsoil to reveal the graft point. As he stooped down to examine the roots more closely, he could see through to the old building beyond – the North Wing.