by Samuel Fort
Chapter 13: Radio Intercept
It was late in the evening when Ben finally awoke in the King’s Suite. He hadn’t realized just how much the voyage to Cash had drained him. He sat up in bed and looked to his left. Lilian was there, facedown, her golden hair spread about her pillow, with one arm around a gently snoring Fiela, who lay atop the sheets, an arm around Lilian. The Peth, as always, wore a football jersey to bed, while Lilian wore a silk gown so delicate that the translucent material seemed to have been spun by miniature artisan spiders.
Lilian’s thin crown, three daggers, a garrote, and a Glock were on the nightstand next to Fiela. Ben mumbled to himself, not for the first time, “One of these is not like the other,” while quietly moving toward the bathroom.
He’d be unable exit the bedroom without Fiela’s knowledge. The assassin’s version of sleep was different than that of most mortals. The sound of a pin dropped on carpet was enough to wake her. But she’d pretend to be asleep if she sensed he was trying not to wake her. It was a game, and she played it well.
Ben left the King’s Suite and went to the command center, wanting to inquire with Disparthian and Vedeus about their earlier private discussion.
“When was the transmission sent?” Disparthian and Vedeus stood in front of him.
“Last night, Anax,” answered the radio operator. He handed the king a sheet of paper. “I haven’t filled in all the technical data, like frequency or times, but the words are the words I heard.”
Ben scanned the transcript, saying, “Go ahead and play it.”
The radioman spun in his chair to face his computer. As he made a few mouse clicks, he said, “The signal was very weak. I have cleaned it up with filters.”
Ben listened as the recording was played back. At first there was only static broken at thirty second intervals by an electronic ‘beep.’ Then the transmission started, and Ben followed along with the transcript:
[VoiceTX – unencrypted – Agati]
STATIC. MARKER. START.
[male voice]
“ - Allati, 41 point 1402 [static] point 76014 [static] plat [plak? – English wd] – under attack by [animals?] [static] three viable squads...cave...reinforcements...ineffective but [small arms fire, yelling][prolonged static, heavy warbling]. Bravo India Mike Papa Alpha November [warbling]. Urgent that reinforcements…Avoid [pit?]...corpses are...lights [renewed gunfire, screams]...has fallen and are [warbling]reported at...within the ribs...reports from China station 5[static]6... temples...Hail King[renewed gunfire].
[END TX/Signal loss]
The recording ended, Ben exchanged glances with Disparthian and Vedeus. While the words on the paper appeared dire, they did nothing to capture the panic in the voice of the man he had just heard on the recording, nor the palpable fear of the men and women screaming in the background as they fired their weapons.
“I think ‘creatures’ would be a better translation than ‘animals,’” Ben said. “Did you calculate a back azimuth?”
“Yes, Anax. The transmission came from the east.”
Disparthian said, “Check with our other DF-capable listening posts to see if they picked up the transmission. Maybe we can get a resection.”
“As you say, Commander.”
Ben crossed his arms and turned to Disparthian, “What do you make of it?”
The other man said, “Only the obvious. It was a Peth unit in duress requesting emergency reinforcements, either from its own kingdom or others. I assume it is at least a company sized element, because the speaker said he had three viable squads, which suggests he started off with a much larger force. Larger than a platoon. They may have been on foot, as there was no mention of squadrons or troops. They are, or were, holding up in a cave. Or perhaps their attackers came from a cave.”
Rubbing the back of his neck, Ben said, “Creatures? I assume that’s a euphemism for a particularly nasty enemy. A force with an animal mascot, or even war dogs? Militias might have those.”
“I do not think any militia could overcome a company of well-armed Peth, Anax.”
“Not head on, but the Peth could have been ambushed, or ran into booby traps or IEDs that thinned out their ranks.”
Disparthian didn’t look convinced. “Even if that were true, they would not be so...terrified.” He was embarrassed at the admission. “What we heard did not sound like professional soldiers engaging an enemy. The troops sounded confused. The gunfire was erratic and in uncontrolled bursts.”
Ben slowly shook his head. “There must be an explanation. Does that reference to China mean anything to you?”
“No. I can’t understand why a signal generated from within North America would make reference to one of our Far East outposts.”
“Perhaps they received a shortwave transmission they were attempting to relay to others?”
Vedeus said, “While engaged in battle?”
“A valid point. They used the word ‘temple.’ Makes you wonder, doesn’t it?”
Disparthian nodded. “It seems an unlikely coincidence.”
“If we can determine where the transmission came from, we’ll send a squadron to investigate. We have to determine what happened out there.”
Vedeus said, “May I lead the expedition, when the time comes?”
Disparthian looked surprised. “Are you well enough?”
“I am, and having recently traveled the lands east of here, I know the obstacles well enough. I would be the right person for the job.”
Disparthian looked at Ben, who thought for a moment before nodding.
“Very well,” said Disparthian.
Ben spent the rest of the evening in his study. When her returned to the King’s Suite the following morning, Fiela was gone and Lilian was being bathed by Persipia in the pool-sized bath in the adjacent bathroom. Persipia stood in the bath, water up to her waist. Lilian was face down on a mat at the bath’s edge, half-covered with soap lather. Both women were nude.
“Ah, sorry,” he said as he began a hasty retreat.
Lilian rose to her elbows. “For what, Mutu?”
“Interrupting.”
“Gods, Ben!” the woman laughed. “It’s a bath! I am your wife and Persy is supposed to be your consort. I will never understand your Victorian...well, never mind that. Where have you been?”
“In the, um...” He tried to focus on Lilian’s face and not Persipia’s breasts. The consort was running a sponge along the queen’s legs. She beamed at him.
Lilian moaned. “Ben, really! Very well. Persy, cover yourself.”
“I do not mind-” the other woman began.
“The king does,” replied Lilian sharply, “and since when do your preferences matter? Cover yourself and be quiet.”
The other woman did as she was instructed, pouting, and Lilian said, “Sorry, Mutu. She means well but she is her mother’s creature. Bad genes and all that. You were saying?”
Feeling more awkward than ever, Ben said, “There is, or was, a Peth unit somewhere to the east. It was in combat and radioing for assistance.”
Lilian arched an eyebrow. “Which kingdom?”
“No clue. There wasn’t much to the transmission except a lot of screaming and gibberish. I’m going to send a squadron to investigate if we can determine where the unit was at.”
“How will you do that?”
“We know the general direction the signal was coming from. I’m going to meet with Thal to see if the tablets are of any use. There are coordinates on them and-”
“Thal? Is that necessary?”
Ben crossed his arms. “Yes. She’s the only one who can help me interpret the coordinates on the tablets. I think they might be pertinent because the transmission contained the word ‘temple,’ and I suspect the coordinates are the locations of temples, like the one I saw in Cash. If we can get more DF readings-”
“DF?”
“Direction finding. If you shoot back azimuths on a radio signal from multiple locations, you can determine wh
ere the signal is coming from. Generally.”
“Oh,” the queen said, clearly neither understanding nor caring. “Just be careful, Mutu. Thal is an Orduna. She and her father would prefer my head on a stake. They want Fiela on the throne and me out of the way.”
“Fiela would kill any Orduna that made any move against you.”
Lilian sighed and lowered her head. “Accidents happen. Can this expedition you’re planning not wait until spring, though? Perhaps we can appropriate aircraft when this damnable winter has run its course. Or get those repair parts for the helicopter. I don’t understand why you must gallivant around on horses in the snow. It’s not safe.”
Ben sighed. The two had had this discussion before. “Horses are the only thing that can navigate the mountain passes. All the roads are knee-deep with snow and blocked by abandoned vehicles. Horses don’t require gasoline or oil or spare parts and they allow us to move quietly. There are still survivors in and around Denver and they’re pretty desperate. Even if we had fuel to spare and the roads were passable, roaring into town in vehicles would gain us a lot of unwanted attention.”
“But when we get the helicopter repaired-”
“If we get it repaired, Lilian. They’re complicated machines. You can’t just hop in one, turn the ignition, and fly into the air. We’ve only got five trained pilots at Steepleguard, and three of them are fixed-wing pilots. Anyway, the fuel in its tank probably isn’t any good anymore. Maybe we’ll find good fuel somewhere. Even if we do we’ll have to find a way to pump it, which is a headache without electricity, and transport it here.”
“We can find other helicopters.”
“I’m sure we will. But Diz tells me that some of the computer viruses he released into the wild were specifically designed to make aircraft non-operational, and that a lot of the avionics and other critical components shipped before the apocalypse were designed to fail, compliments of the Nisirtu. In short, we’ll be lucky to find a helicopter or plane that isn’t a deathtrap, and even if we do, we lack fuel, and even if we had fuel, we’re short pilots. Oh, and we lack navigation systems, because there are no functional GPS satellites. Did I mention spare parts aren’t being made anymore? Or our lack of aircraft mechanics? Because if we’re lucky, there might be a dozen left in the world, and they probably won’t survive another year unless we miraculously find them.”
Lilian stared at the man for a long moment, displeased at being schooled in front of Persipia. “Fine,” she said coldly. “You’ve made your point. Go and meet with Thal and leave me to my bath. I can feel the soap drying out my skin.”
Stepping back, Ben grabbed the handle of the door. “Don’t forget we have lunch with Sam and his family.”
“Never fear, husband. It is on my schedule. Now,” she said, reaching back and roughly jerking the towel away from Persipia’s body. The woman yelped. “Might I continue with my morning ritual?”
Ben closed the door behind him.
