Rogue Stars

by C Gockel et al.

  Nine days. That delay gave him some idea of the terrorist’s capabilities he realised. Zhang must have handed the crystal to his friends that day; probably to his brother, but there was no proof of that. Didn’t matter who; it was the timing that interested him. A day to get the data to someone with the authority to evaluate it, and maybe another day to decide to use it. Add to that a week to gather personnel and supplies to launch the op. Not bad, but not great. Probably supply issues rather than personnel. It was usually that way around.

  They had proven his data sample was good with last night’s attack. He could expect contact any time now. Fine then. He would step out for one final day of exploring. With the thought fresh in mind, he left the room and locked his door before making his way down.

  He didn’t have a destination in mind, so when the taxi driver asked him, he said to tour the city a while. The driver nodded and off they went. Eric had Ashfield mapped and in his database, so he simply let the man have his head and let the world go by without taking too much of an interest in any one thing.

  The people interested him the most. He watched them as if they were some alien species just discovered. The children walking with their parents always perked him up. It was good to know that the cycle of life was unending. All the death he had seen was offset by new life. Not erased of course, his memories would never fade, but it did make him feel better seeing the children. They didn’t know he existed, and were better off not knowing the things he did. Their lives went on separate from him and unconnected.

  Eric frowned as the taxi ventured away from the areas tourists were normally interested in. The buildings were less flashy, more utilitarian. A quick check of his map told him they were heading away from the city centre toward the industrial zone.

  “Hey, I said I wanted a tour. I’m not interested in factories,” Eric said in annoyance.

  The driver ignored him.

  What the hell? Eric used his sensors and sighed in annoyance. They were being escorted in front and behind by armed men driving identical cars. Government maybe. He could rip the door off and bail, but really, what was the point? It would only draw more attention to him. He could force the driver to pull over and let him out... no he decided, he would wait and see where this leads. Maybe it would be interesting.

  Interesting was one word for it, he mused as the taxi pulled into a compound. Another word for it was surprising. The compound was part of Zhang’s factory complex, and was full of loading and unloading trucks. Not a government op. Eric watched as a truck lifted off and flew low over the city as it clawed for altitude. Heavy bugger that one. He wondered about the cargo. He readied himself for action when the taxi stopped and his door popped open.

  He wondered if they would try to disarm him. If they did, it would at least give him a point of reference. He needed to move the mission along. If they were hostile, he could at least take out this part of the Freedom Movement’s operation. He would keep one or two alive for interrogation, and use the answers to target another cell. With luck, he would learn about their base of operations. There must be one if they really planned to overthrow the government. There was no way urban terrorism alone could do it; not now that the Marines were here with air support. No, they needed to field a proper force, and that would take logistical support—equipment and personnel. If they didn’t have that, the Freedom Movement would be nothing more than an annoyance to any government, but Eric didn’t get that sense from them.

  “No tip for you,” Eric muttered to the driver as he climbed out of the taxi.

  The driver shrugged, and drove away leaving Eric facing the escort cars waiting for them to make a move. The car windscreens were dialled to black. The occupants might have weapons trained on him and he wouldn’t know. His sensors detected four men in each car, and they were armed with pulsers by the emissions he was receiving, but that didn’t tell him if they were out and pointed. Eric turned to watch as the security gate slid shut and locked him in. It couldn’t hold him of course. He could climb it or the wall if need be. He turned on the spot letting his sensors do the work for now. He had three exit strategies mapped by the time a welcoming committee came out to join him.

  “Mister Martell, forgive the manner in which you were brought here,” Yi Zhang said. Beside him walked another man. His brother. Eric had his picture in his database. Both men were wearing high-collared business suits that befitted their corporate status. “Unavoidable I’m afraid. There have been developments.”

  Eric glanced at Zhang’s outstretched hand but didn’t take it. He would need his hands if this went sour. “Zhang,” he said with a slight nod, “and this is?”

  Zhang lowered his hand. “I think you already know, but in case I overestimated you, may I introduce Daniel King? Daniel, this is the man I told you about. Eric Martell.”

  King didn’t offer to shake. “You have a novel way of gaining my attention, Martell. Your free sample certainly did.”

  Eric relaxed a little; this didn’t feel like a prelude to an attack. “I’ve found it quicker and it usually works. I like to do my groundwork before meeting clients and getting down to the practical applications of what I can offer.”

  King didn’t smile. “President Thurston’s secret police are watching your suite. They have it wired.”

  Eric shrugged. “I know.”

  Secret Police indeed. King was trying to portray himself as a patriot fighting the good fight against a despot. Eric managed not to laugh. It was amazing really, how many of these people used the same rhetoric when justifying themselves. He had heard it all hundreds of times before. He was beginning to wonder if they had read the same terrorism manual, because they all seemed to be using it for their bullshit.

  King blinked. “You know?”

  “Of course. No need for concern, there’s nothing for them to find there. Everything I need is in my head.” He tapped his temple with a finger. He didn’t tell them that he had found their surveillance as well as the government’s gear. “All they have is my underwear and spare uniforms.”

  A splutter of laughter burst out of Zhang. He turned to his brother. “See what I mean?”

  King nodded. “The two million will hit your account in...” he checked his wristcomp. “About twenty minutes. Come inside to wait. You have the means to check our deposit with you?”

  Eric nodded, patting the pocket containing his wands.

  So, no attempt to disarm him and they would definitely assume he was armed. He would have in their place. The mention of the money clinched it. He was in the door... more or less.

  King led off and Eric followed. Behind him, car doors opened and eight men brought up the rear. Eric targeted each one, but did nothing outwardly offensive. It was precautionary only. He would do nothing to halt progress. He had gained some ground, but he wasn’t in yet.

  Zhang led them into an empty office, not his own Eric noticed and wondered why not. Maybe all his employees weren’t in the loop. Eric glanced around as King took one of two swivel chairs near the desk. Zhang headed for the autochef. Eric turned as two of the escort entered the room and closed the door. Before it closed fully and they blocked any approach to it, Eric saw the other six men arraying themselves along the corridor outside. Not very trusting, he thought with an internal grin.

  Eric didn’t seat himself, but did take a coffee from Zhang when it was offered. He grimaced at the taste. He detested decaf. “Assuming the transfer goes ahead without problems, what do you envision my role will be?”

  King turned his chair and looked up at Eric. “I’ll assume you know the situation here so won’t waste time reiterating. Normally I wouldn’t be meeting with a recruit like this, but your unorthodox approach appealed to me. You’re no ordinary recruit and I don’t expect you’ll need that gun under your arm. I have plenty of trigger pullers. I want you on my team devising strategy.”

  Eric nodded; smart man to be thinking along those lines. It was exactly what he wanted King to think, but he hadn’t needed to
guide the man. It being his own idea should bolster King’s trust in him and give better access to what he needed. If they had just recruited him as plain soldier, he could have been posted as a guard at the arse end of nowhere and unable to learn what he needed.

  “You are fortunate,” King went on. “Your plan worked so well that it occurred to people I trust that you might be an operative working for our enemy. President Thurston isn’t above using InSec for his own ends despite his so precious constitution.”

  Eric took note of King’s sneering condemnation of his President. There was something personal there; it wasn’t all politics, and Eric wondered what it was about, but King was still talking.

  “... our base of operations. I won’t tell you where you’ll be working, and you will have no access to that information even while there. If you have objections?”

  Eric shook his head. It was perfect. King wanted him to work on planning more raids from a secret location as a security measure, but he was a viper. He could be deaf and blind and dropped anywhere on the planet and he would know where he was seconds later. He was only a thought away from a secure satellite link anywhere in the system. His designers would never have missed such a basic necessity. Many of his systems used the link. TacNet didn’t actually need to use it—unit to unit links could be, and often were, used—but TacNet could use satellites to increase range when they were available. Sensors used them for keeping track of friendly and enemy units on the battlefield, and for navigation. Calling in air support without them could be a pain.

  The point was, King could call it a secret base all he wanted, but as soon as Eric arrived, he would know where it was and so would the Marines. He would see to that. The Freedom Movement had just taken a huge step toward their extinction, and Eric a step toward heading home again.

  He was pleased.

  The time came and he went through the motions of verifying payment. He couldn’t care less about the money and wanted to get going, but he had to play his part. A mercenary wouldn’t overlook it, so he dutifully used a wand to check his balance. Two million had been deposited a few minutes earlier and he nodded to King.

  “It’s there. When do you need me to be ready?”

  King raised an eyebrow. “I thought you understood. You will leave from here directly, and no you can’t go back to your hotel.”

  “Don’t you trust me?” Eric said.

  “Of course not. You will be escorted by my men at all times until you reach our base. Once there, you can move about, but not before then, and we won’t let you leave without escort for any reason.”

  Eric shrugged. “I agreed to a contract for the duration of hostilities. Hope you don’t mind if I make that duration short.”

  King smiled this time. “I like your confidence. You get to leave when we have won, not before.”

  “Understood. I estimate three to six months,” Eric said. “But that depends on resources and your willingness to cooperate with me and use them as I direct. I don’t need to take command or expect to, but I do need your fighters to at least consider what I say.”

  “They will do what I tell them,” King said coldly, his eyes suddenly hard. “You will have access to our logistics data, and I expect you to evaluate what we can and can’t do with what we have. I want ideas. If you have a way to increase our capability, I want to know about it immediately. You will be my adviser as far as my people are concerned. Adviser only. They won’t take orders from you.”

  Eric shrugged. King was a paranoid bastard. “Okay by me. I’ll need a way to talk to you, unless you’re coming with?”

  “No. I can’t be away from the capital right now. I’ll give you a number where you can reach me or someone I trust.”

  “Fine.”

  King stood and prepared to leave. He spoke with Zhang a moment before leaving the room. The eight-man security team did not follow.

  “Well,” Zhang said and clapped his hands together cheerily. “I have transportation all arranged for you. Your... watchdogs? They will take over from here. Good luck to you.”

  Eric nodded to him and followed his keepers out of the office. They led him outside and into the compound toward one of the transports he had seen earlier. He climbed into the cargo bay of the nearest when told to, and sat on one of the crates. His watchdogs climbed in to join him, and moments later the transport lifted off. He didn’t know his destination, but using a satellite link he followed along and plotted a few points of interest. A minute into the journey he decided they were heading for the spaceport. He guessed they would be taking a shuttle somewhere. No matter.

  He closed his eyes and leaned back pretending to sleep.

  4 ~ Sanctuary

  Planet Harmony, Shan System

  “Do you see him?” Tahar whispered, his black-tufted ears stood erect and alert atop his grey furred head.

  Shima tried to penetrate the gloom beneath the trees and find what her father had seen, but the shadows were too deep, and her eyes blurred with the distance. She silently cursed them for not being as keen as his. Sometimes she felt like clawing them out of her head. At least then she wouldn’t see the disappointment on her father’s face every time he looked at her.

  She knew where the Shkai’ra stood. It was a warm and peaceful presence within her mind, very different to the fierce glow that was her father. The breeze suddenly shifted in her favour, teasing her with the Shkai’ra’s scent. Her claws slid from their sheaths and dug into the moist soil beneath her paws. A frustrated growl rumbled deep in her chest.

  “Do you not see him even this close?”

  She wanted to howl in despair at the pity she heard in his voice. “I feel him, my father… I almost see him,” she lied. She knew which sub-species it had to be. There were a great many of the Lesser Shkai’ra at Sanctuary East. She doubted it could be one of the much rarer black tailed variants of the species. “A Lesser Shkai’ra. A big one, yes?”

  Tahar’s ears flattened in distress at her lies. “No. He’s black tailed—barely adult and very small.”

  He was disappointed in her. She could feel it. The pain that caused her was worse than anything else she could think of. Her father was the best hunter and tracker in her family. Chailen, her younger sib, might grow to be as good, but she was barely adult. It was too soon to be certain.

  “I…” she began, but she couldn’t finish her apology. She lowered her head almost to the ground in shame.

  Her father pretended not to see a reason for shame. “Come. I will take you closer so that you might see.”

  He crept forward still on four paws like a shadow, then froze with his right forefoot raised. His ears pricked and swivelled, listening for danger hidden in the dense undergrowth. The sun was lowering in the sky, deepening the shadows and heralding the arrival of Sanctuary East’s night hunters. His whiskers drew down, and his nose twitched as he scented his quarry.

  Shima waited motionless, less than two paces behind him. The breeze shifted and she caught the scent of the Shkai’ra again. It was calm and unaware of them.

  Tahar eased his paw to the ground, and with his head low between powerful shoulders, crept toward his quarry. Left forefoot, right hind foot and pause. Right forefoot, left hind foot and pause again. Shima mirrored her father’s movements and was concentrating on him to such an extent that she failed to notice when her sight finally resolved the Shkai’ra.

  Tahar stopped and looked back at her in question.

  She was so close to the beast that one pounce would have been enough to take it down. The Shkai’ra was a young male, barely old enough to forage for himself. Although his fangs rivalled hers, his other weapons were still undeveloped. Two knife-sharp horns presaged an impressive rack that would eventually grace his proud head.

  “He’s beautiful,” she whispered almost inaudibly, and Tahar flicked his ears in agreement.

  The Shkai’ra froze in mid-chew and Shima held her breath. It raised its head warily, looking for the source of its unease, but Tahar’s pelt
was a mottled shadow, and Shima took after him in her looks if not in her abilities. It failed to see them, and went back to using his wickedly sharp hooves to dig for more roots.

  Shima took one more step and slowly raised herself onto her hind legs. She could almost touch him now. One more step and she reached toward him.

  The Shkai’ra turned to look back and froze.

  The moment stretched out into an eternity. She stared into those innocent eyes in wonder, feeling connected to her ancestors as never before. It was so easy to think of herself as one of those primitive hunters. She would have known nothing of the wider world; nothing of engineering, or genetic farming methods—known nothing of history or philosophy. Her only concern would’ve been the wellbeing of the clan and her people; her only task to hunt for food and protect her clan.

  The moment passed.

  She felt the barest of touches on her outstretched paw and the Shkai’ra was gone in a blur of speed. She would never forget that moment or the feel of its hide as long as she lived. She watched it race into the trees, until losing it to distance and poor vision. She could still sense it running blindly away from her—still scent its fear on the breeze. There was nothing wrong with her other senses. It was only her eyes that made her a cripple among her people.

  The Shkai’ra was long gone when Tahar stood tall once more and led Shima back to their camp. She looked back once but the wonderful beast was gone. She and her father were its natural enemy. It didn’t know it was safe. Sanctuary East was a preserve. The Shkai’ra weren’t the only species to need such a place, but they were the most endangered.

  “We must leave before the sun sets,” Tahar said when they reached camp.

  “I know,” she said. “I’m sorry I lied. I wanted you to look at me like you do at Chailen… I’m sorry.”