by Ehsan Ahmad
The purple-tinged rays of the Wild Sun speared the cargo bay of the Tarikan. The five combat shells were hanging from the storage rack upon which they had been transported. The rack was attached to rails that ran the length and breadth of the bay. Cables had been strung from the walls to secure the shells during the trip down.
The worst of the turbulence now past, Vellerik was relieved all the precautions had worked: the shells had moved around a bit but had not sustained any damage. He glanced down at the outline of the central ramp. He and the other three men would exit the ship via this door as they approached Mine Five.
He’d been unable to read anything from Talazeer or Mennander, who had given the soldiers only a cursory greeting on their way to the passenger lounge behind the shuttle’s cockpit. He had, however, received a message from Danysaan. Not daring to use the ship’s coms system, the Administrator had slipped a note under his door during the night. He explained the Count and the Viceroy had discussed Vellerik for some time at the dinner after his departure. Talazeer contended that Vellerik’s mood had been affected recently by this mysterious affliction. Mennander seemed to accept this and was only interested in assurances that Vellerik would perform professionally for the remainder of the visit.
Vellerik was determined to do precisely that. He had briefed the men twice and had run through the itinerary several times in his head. The shells had been checked three times before departure, and there were no outstanding issues. The spare fuel pods had been loaded aboard and were secured in a reinforced container situated in the corner of the bay.
To his right, the three members of his team—Perttiel, Zarrinda, and Saarden sat in silence. Vellerik harbored concerns only about young Zarrinda: he didn’t have as much time in the shells as the others and was occasionally given to panic. But Vellerik knew he would follow orders to the letter and far preferred him to some of the overly aggressive troopers, such as Dekkiran.
To his left, Triantaa was fiddling with the field-scanner on his lap. The unit had a large screen and would enable him to monitor the ship, the shells, and the surrounding area. He’d already confirmed the scanner had successfully linked with the Tarikan’s powerful sensor array.
“How are you feeling?” Vellerik had to speak loudly above the shuttle’s engines.
“Fine, thank you, sir,” said Triantaa. “I meant to ask earlier—tonight will be your last on the Galtaryax. Will you eat dinner with myself and the rest of the troop?”
Vellerik felt the unfamiliar sensation of a smile forming on his face. “Of course.”
Though Sonus knew all he could know about the combat shells, he had only ever glimpsed the armory’s interior once before. At first, he simply stood there, waiting for an alarm or the sound of approaching guards. Only when he was satisfied he had not been discovered did he look around.
The rear of the building was taken up by racks of weapons, helmets, and armor. Most of the rest of the space was occupied up by a high, semi-circular structure he knew to be something called the support station. All six white combat shells stood dormant in front of the station, three on either side, facing the main door. Between them was a broad central panel that contained all the various pods and modules that could be attached to the shells. On the floor below it was the legend “FUEL”: the station was connected via an underground pipe to the main tank beneath the landing strip.
Sonus hurried over to one of the shells beside the central panel. He put the rifle and the pack on the floor and the com-cell on top of the rifle. He then took the ID card and approached the shell. The cockpit door was up, revealing the inside of the machine. Every space not occupied by the soft sections that molded themselves to the pilot was packed with cables, boxes, screens, and numerous other components Sonus couldn’t identify. His stomach turned over as he thought of locking himself into the thing.
The shell’s bulbous arms hung down straight, hands resting on the floor. Sonus knelt down beside the left hand and spied the rectangular sensor inside the palm. He held the ID card against it. Two seconds later, the shell began to hum. As the main cockpit screen activated, he turned to the central panel.
There, another screen was now active. Sonus knew he could use this to control the shell remotely. He walked over to the display and checked the status of the craft. It presently had no pods or modules attached. The tanks were empty, but fueling time was listed as only a minute and a half so he made the command. Something clicked at the back of the shell, and he heard liquid on the move.
By the time Cerrin and Kannalin returned to Block A, there was already too much noise.
She found Sadi, Yarni, Trantis, and Erras gathered by the door. Sadi had one of the lamps in her hand and a few other workers had lit what lights they had, mostly candles and lanterns. The buzz of confusion and fear was growing ever louder.
“Now?” asked Sadi.
“It’s time,” replied Cerrin. “You others watch the door.” Leaving her share of the spears with the men, she gave Yarni a reassuring squeeze on the shoulder and then followed Sadi into the middle of the block. As the men and women moved aside, Cerrin tried not catch anyone’s eye.
When they stopped, Sadi spoke as loudly as she dared. “Let’s have quiet, please. Can everyone come down here—we need to talk to you all. As quickly as possible.”
Cerrin was surprised how cooperative they were. Several more people came down ladders, and in moments they were surrounded by dazed, wide-eyed faces. Questions were already being asked. As they waited for the last of the workers to arrive, Esteann pushed her way to the front.
“What is this, Cerrin? You told me there was nothing going on.”
“You’ll hear along with everyone else.”
“I knew it,” said the Echobe woman, eyes narrow. “I knew I couldn’t trust you.”
Cerrin spied the spherical face of Dukas, watching her over the shoulder of another man. Sadi was waving everyone forward so they could address the group as one. Even those not involved in the plot were reminding their compatriots to be quiet; they knew they would all suffer if the Vitaari found them assembled like this.
Cerrin and Sadi had agreed to both speak. Though Sadi was new, she shared Palanian heritage with a good portion of the laborers. Cerrin would do her best to convince the Echobe, though she knew most probably still disliked her. She had no idea how the people would respond. The press of the crowd and those expectant faces already made her want to turn and run.
“Speak up, then,” said someone.
Sadi continued. “Whatever happens, let’s keep the noise down.” She took a breath. “Now, we’ll keep this simple because there’s no time. Ever since each of you was brought here, you have not had a choice. Now you do. For the past few weeks, we have been working on a tunnel.”
Cerrin heard sharp intakes of breath and curses.
To her credit, Sadi pressed on with great composure. “It is now complete. The entrance is hidden amongst the containers beyond Block B. It runs down into the mine, then back up under the wall and comes out just above the river. We can get through in under ten minutes. If we stay together and work together, we can get everyone out before dawn.”
For a moment, no one said anything. Then came the questions.
“What do we do then?”
“How did you do it?”
“Won’t the sensors pick us up?”
“Surely the Vitaari must know?”
Sadi held up her hand, but the noise didn’t stop. “Listen, we can all go; we’ll take you in small groups. You can be free.”
The questions continued. Some of the laborers even turned away.
“You had no right. No right.” Dukas hadn’t spoken loudly, but the others quieted. He came forward and stood beside Esteann. “What you have done will bring great suffering to all. You have betrayed us.”
“By giving you a way out?” asked Sadi.
“All you have given us is a death sentence. They’ll catch us—either here or ou
tside. And then?”
“Tearing,” said another man. “They’ll tear us for this.”
“Shut your mouth,” snapped Cerrin. She couldn’t believe the spineless Dukas and his ally would use fear to control the others.
Sadi held her by the arm.
Kannalin came forward on her other side. She took the spear he offered but held it low.
As the noise grew again, help came from an unlikely quarter.
“Just listen!” said Esteann, holding up both hands. “Where exactly does this tunnel come out?”
“To the south,” replied Sadi. “There are trees for cover. Cross the river and we’re safe.”
“And there are still some lilies,” said the Echobe woman. “Those who can’t swim can use them.”
“You really think we’ll get that far?” countered Dukas. He nodded at Cerrin. “She’s tried four times already.”
“They can’t get to us once we’re in the forest.” Esteann pointed at Cerrin. “Me and her and others of us here stayed free out there for years.”
Torrin—the Echobe woman who had refused to work with the Palanians—also weighed in. “If we keep moving, we can get away. We can do it.”
“We can,” said Cerrin. “But we have to go now. There’s not long until first light.”
“Why now?” asked someone from the back. “Why not in the middle of the night—so we had longer?”
They had discussed this: they would not reveal what was happening at Mine Five.
“We have our reasons,” said Sadi. “You just have to trust us. We can get every one of you out of here.”
“Even if you don’t, I’d rather die trying.”
Though she couldn’t see her, Cerrin knew Serras’s voice.
“And shame on any who wouldn’t.”
“They’ll assume we were part of it,” said the man who had agreed with Dukas. He was Echobe, but Cerrin had never spoken to him; she knew only that he had been at Thirteen as long as anyone. “The only way is to tell them—at least then only you fools will suffer.”
Kannalin touched Cerrin lightly. She nodded. The big man sprang past her and grabbed his fellow Echobe. As they grappled, the man cried out. Cerrin kicked him hard in the knee, felling him in an instant. As he landed, she knocked others aside and placed the point of the spear against his cheek. Lights fell on his terrified face.
“I didn’t want it like this,” she said. “We’re all going. And we’re going now.” She looked up. “I have to tell you all—for once in his life, Dukas is right. They’ll take out the entire shift for this. So you stay, you’ll die. Painfully.”
Though some of the children and women were crying, Cerrin kept going.
“You can each take one small bag, nothing else. We will go one row at a time. So quietly collect your stuff and start lining up. You don’t have to worry about the Vitaari; they’ll have plenty to keep them busy.”
She moved the spear away from the man’s face. “I’d rather use this on them. You with us?”
He nodded. Cerrin and Kannalin helped him to his feet.
People were already hurrying back to their compartments. Cerrin noticed Dukas had not moved. Spear still in her hand, she walked up to him.
“You too.”
The Palanian spoke quietly. “These people will die. And their blood will be on your hands.”
Cerrin moved toward him so their faces were close. “You do anything to stop us, and the only blood on my hands will be yours.”
Vellerik was first out of the Tarikan. Once clear of the hull, he jumped off the ramp and held the shell in a hover. He turned himself around, then descended, looking up as the others came down the ramp. He checked the scanners were clear, then backed off another ten meters and ordered them to follow.
As the men complied, Triantaa spoke over the open channel.
“Captain, tactical info link established.”
Below the cockpit window was the main display. Vellerik had the image set to terrain and now saw his position, that of the other shells, the Tarikan, and Mine Five—all indicated by green dots, lines, and arrows.
Once the others were out, he ordered Zarrinda and Saarden to the left while he and Perttiel moved to the right. As he cleared the wing, he adjusted the window’s visibility settings once more. The shuttle’s passenger lounge was situated at the base of the fin, just behind the cockpit. Among the faces watching the escort, he could make out Talazeer and Viceroy Mennander.
Another reading showed distance to the Tarikan’s hull. He and Perttiel eased outward until they reached the agreed one hundred fifty meters.
“Rightward shells in position.”
Saarden was in charge of the other pair. “Leftward shells in position.”
The pilot answered, “Proceeding on a bearing of 080, height two hundred meters, speed one fifty.”
“Acknowledged.”
“Departing in three, two…”
Triantaa had already fed the itinerary into the shell’s system. “Select waypoint one.”
“…one.”
The Tarikan leapt away. Vellerik and Perttiel stayed together and caught up in their own time. Vellerik kept track of the other two and saw they had maintained positioned well.
He leaned forward and looked down at the ground. Through the darkness, he could just make out the curves of the sand dunes far below.
Sonus was relieved to find his weight calculations were correct. He had finished entering the module selection into the station and now double-checked them before initiating the loading process. The weight limit was two hundred kilos. The twin assault cannons and one thousand rounds took up ninety of that. The extra fuel tank weighed fifty kilos, the deflector field pod just twenty, leaving him with enough capacity for five of the seeker missiles.
He had no idea of the size or strength of the Viceroy’s ship; he just hoped he had enough firepower to bring it down. His finger was over the EXECUTE command when a voice came through the com-cell.
“Compound patrol, status check.”
Sonus ran over to it and picked it up. He knew enough Vitaari words to respond but not what a sentry would typically say.
“Compound patrol, status check.”
Sonus found he suddenly couldn’t form the right sentence.
“Nullerik—all well?”
Sonus had only ever spoken Vitaar with Kadessis. With no clue of how the guard might sound, he decided to imitate the administrator. He moved the com-cell away from his mouth.
“All well. Repeat, all well.”
No reply. Was that a good thing or a bad thing?
The guard’s default position was standing in front of the armory. If the man on duty in the tower walked to the window and looked down, he would see he wasn’t there. If he didn’t see him once, that might not cause alarm: he could be patrolling. But twice? Or if he realized he hadn’t reappeared?
Still no reply.
Sonus didn’t have time to stand there and think about it. He hurried back to the station and pressed EXECUTE. Two cables attached to the rear of the shell retracted. The arms rose up, and the combat shell stepped forward.
29
Vellerik was almost beginning to enjoy himself; he had forgotten how exhilarating it was to fly the shells at high speed. The approach had passed without incident, and his team hovered over the gloomy compound as the Tarikan descended onto the landing strip. Once the shuttle had touched down, he gave the order. Swooping in low over the assembled staff and laborers, he and the other three landed on one corner of the strip.
After a quick check on the status screen, he powered down. The arms of the shell dropped, then the cockpit door popped up. Leaving the com-cell in his ear, he stepped out of the machine and waited for the others before striding to the edge of the strip. There was no need for refueling yet, but they would have to do so later in the morning.
“Good morning, Captain.”
Governor Urdiss and the rest of t
he Mine Five reception party had walked over to greet him.
“Governor.”
Urdiss anxiously gathered his senior staff around him as a technician declared they were safe to approach the ship. The Tarikan’s ramp began to descend.
Cerrin stayed in the block with Sadi. Kannalin and Trantis escorted each group of five to the tunnel entrance, where Jespa remained on guard. Serras had been sent ahead to the watch the exit beyond the wall, while Erras was in charge of getting the escapees from one tunnel to the other.
So far, twenty-five had already left. There seemed little point in dividing the groups into individuals or pairs to avoid attention. If any of the Vitaari bothered to look down at the Block A entrance for any amount of time, they would see what was going on. Cerrin and the others remained sure this was less likely to draw attention than covering or destroying the light.
While Sadi waited by the door to corral those ready to follow Kannalin and Trantis, Cerrin worked on those few who still hadn’t come forward. She knew it was best not to give them any chance for doubts and second thoughts, to exploit the passivity many of her fellow prisoners had fallen into.
Yet the questions were endless.
“Won’t they see us leave?”
“How big is this tunnel?”
“Surely they must know?”
“What do we do if they discover us?”
Cerrin answered none of them, choosing to repeat only two lines. “Keep moving. This is your chance to be free.”
She was holding a lamp, checking the compartments and climbing the ladders where she had to. A few of the faces she glimpsed seemed almost happy—or at least relieved. Most looked terrified.
“We’re coming,” snapped Dukas as the light hit him. Behind him were five of his fellow Palanians, some of those he claimed to speak for. He led them past Cerrin, who continued on toward the rear of the container.
