by G J Ogden
Maria laughed and slapped him heartily on the back. “There’s hope for you yet, blue boot! Come on, let’s find a couple of uniforms and get out of this stinking yard.”
“I thought the smell was us,” said Page, shuffling through the opening, which did smell pretty bad.
“Speak for yourself, Karl.”
They spent the next few minutes quietly searching the basement level, rifling through laundry bundles and storage areas until they found a couple of uniforms that were the correct size. Maria emerged from a cramped side closet, wearing a UEC corporal’s working uniform, while Page was finishing buttoning the shirt of a similar uniform, but one adorned with the rank of sergeant.
“Looks like I’m your boss now,” said Page, straight faced, though his eyes were smiling.
“Technically, you’re actually the boss of Corporal Amiya Downard,” replied Maria, pouting.
“We’ll need to conceal our sidearms,” said Page, shoving his down the back of his pants. He then grabbed a thin sweater from the bundle of clothes to his side and pulled it on. It did a reasonable job of hiding the sidearm, and also his scratched, blue PVSM. Maria went back inside the closet and came out with a thin jacket, which she slipped on to achieve the same effect. She removed the sidearm from its holster and slipped it into the jacket pocket, then tossed the holster into a recycler.
“Lead on, sir…” said Maria, pressing her lips into a pout.
“At ease, Corporal...” added Page, starting to enjoy himself a little too much.
“Don’t push it, Karl!”
They squeezed back through the reclamation hatch and into the yard, taking care not to dirty their fresh uniforms, and slowly approached the fence next to the alley. Page glanced down towards the main street and when he saw that it was clear, approached the lock and jacked it with his PVSM. This proved to be more difficult than he expected as the freshly-laundered sweater was quite tight.
“Okay, so we just walk out of the alley and turn right along the street,” said Maria. “Don’t stop, don’t meet anyone’s eyes; just walk out like it’s a perfectly normal thing for a couple of UEC flyers to do.”
“How far to the campus from here?” asked Page, pulling the sleeve of the sweater back over his PVSM.
“Hard to say until I fully get my bearings, but it’s not a big sector, so maybe ten minutes on foot at most.”
Page nodded and waited for Maria to take the lead, since he didn’t know the sector at all. They exited the alley and immediately swung right; no-one paid any attention to them, and they shot each other knowing, relieved glances. The dome illumination had reduced even further from when they had first entered the sector, and Maria guessed that it was probably mid-evening and as such the street was still fairly busy, with people coming off-shift, returning to their habitats or just heading out to relax in one of the rec-zones. The hustle and bustle worked in their favor, helping them blend in with the crowds, but when they reached the collection of ten buildings that made up the flight training campus the numbers thinned out greatly and they started to feel more exposed.
Maria quickly surveyed the campus grounds, trying not to make it look too obvious. The building where Ashley usually taught was towards the back of the campus, next to a transit-way barrier. “It’s getting late so the classes have probably finished by now.”
“Is she still likely to be here?”
“No way to tell. But let’s head round the back and move up along the side of the transit-way. That way we’re unlikely to arouse any suspicion.”
Page didn’t answer; his head was turned back towards the last side-street they had exited.
“Hey, Karl, did you hear me?” said Maria, tapping him on the chest with the back of her hand.
“Don’t look, but I think we’re being followed.”
Maria felt her pulse quicken. “Where?”
“Three people, civilian dress, chatting by the turning to the last street we came down. Could be covert ops.”
Maria walked ahead of Page and entered the campus through the opening in the low wall that marked its boundaries, and then she turned around, pretending to talk to Page, but instead glancing over his shoulder. She saw the three people, two men and one woman, chatting on the street corner.
“If they are covert ops, they’re not doing a good job of hiding it,” said Maria.
Page cocked an eyebrow. “Well, you didn’t spot them.”
Maria shot him a frosty look. “Come on, let’s head around back,” she replied, feeling the urge to punch Page on the nose. “If they follow, we’ll have to act fast.”
Page followed Maria down the narrow path that lead around the rear of the campus. He tested his shoulder, and though Gaia’s meds were doing their work well, he was still far from fully fighting fit.
“A brawl is the last thing we need. I still feel like an old punch-bag.”
“I know how you feel,” replied Maria, slipping her hand into her jacket pocket and feeling the cool metal of the sidearm, “but, sooner or later, a fight is what this will come down to.”
Maria caught sight of their pursuers crossing the main street towards the campus, making no attempt to disguise their urgency. She turned her face away from them so that they wouldn’t be able to see her speak.
“They’re coming, Karl. Head left down the back of this block, and get ready…”
Page massaged his shoulder and took several deep breaths, mentally steeling himself for a fight. They slipped down the back of the campus block and as soon as the line of sight to their three followers was broken, they split up and sprinted for cover. Page pressed himself into the dark alcove of an emergency exit door, while Maria crouched behind a power distribution node. The thud of heavy boots grew louder and they both tensed their muscles, ready to strike.
The first of the group, an athletic-looking young man with close-cropped blond hair, skidded to a halt just after turning the corner, closely followed by the second man, who was far stockier, and a young woman with mousy brown hair. The woman moved ahead of the others, and Page could just make her out from the shadowy security of the alcove; if she had taken three more paces forward, he would have been seen.
“Where the hell did they go?” called out the stocky man in a raspy voice. He was much older, rough-shaven, and out of all of them, was the one who most looked like he could handle himself in a fight.
“Did we take a wrong turn?” said the woman.
“No, I saw them come down here,” said the younger man, sounding frantic. Then he pushed off, beckoning to others to follow. “Come on, quickly, or we’ll lose them!”
“No, wait!” called out the stocky man, but it was too late, the younger man had already drawn level with Maria; their eyes locked, but while the man’s grew wide with fear, Maria’s narrowed with deadly intent. In an instant, Maria leapt up and struck the man in the gut, but to her surprise, he recovered quickly and raised a guard.
“Stop!” came a shout, but Maria had no time to determine who made the call, as the younger man attacked. He had clearly been trained in combat by the UEC, but Maria was familiar with the techniques, and blocked the fast combination of punches and kicks, countering with a sharp elbow to the ribs and kick to the stomach. The man cried out and stumbled back, before dropping to one knee.
Page darted from the shadows, raising his sidearm, but the stocky man, who had moved faster than his build would have suggested, swept across and knocked it from his hand. Page landed a punch but felt his shoulder flood with agonizing pain, allowing the stocky man to strike back, landing a clean punch and forcing Page onto the defensive, unable to fight back due to the debilitating pain in his shoulder, which felt like a knife was stuck into it.
Maria kicked the younger man in the head as he tried to stand and heard the crunch of bone as his nose broke, but then she was struck on the back by a powerful kick from the female pursuer. Two more follow-up blows forced her back, and she caught Page in her peripheral vision, clearly shielding his injured shou
lder and blocking blow after blow. She switched across and spun a low kick at Page’s attacker, catching him solidly in the groin. He dropped like a felled tree, but then Maria was grabbed from behind and felt an arm closing around her neck and the pressure increase on her windpipe. She struggled, but could not break free, and as the oxygen failed to reach her lungs, her vision blurred and she began to lose strength. A shadow appeared in front of her and a second later the pressure was gone and she fell heavily to her knees. She grasped her throat struggling for breath and looked up to see Page, shaking the hand of his good arm, which was still half clenched into a fist. Maria spun around and saw the other woman, sprawled flat on her back, out cold.
“Nice punch,” croaked Maria, shakily getting back to her feet.
“Thanks!” said Page. He grabbed his shoulder and cradled it; wincing as he did so, and then looked over to the stocky man who was writhing on the floor in a fetal position, clasping his groin. “I actually almost feel sorry for him.”
“Don’t…” said Maria. “Come on, let’s get out of here, while we can.”
“Wait… please…” wheezed the stocky man. His eyes were watering, and he was reaching out towards them, as if trying to grab hold of them to stop them leaving. “Please…”
Maria glanced at Page and his puzzled expression was a mirror of her own. Page recovered his weapon from the floor, then hurried back to the corner and peeked round, but there was no-one else in sight; the commotion had not attracted any attention. He returned and covered the three defeated opponents with his sidearm.
“It’s clear, there’s no-one else around.”
Maria inspected her uniform and noticed the newly acquired scuffs and gray marks. “Great, I look like a damned mess again,” she said, brushing away the dirt as best she could. “I swear that the next person who messes up my clothes is going to get a bullet in the knee.”
The youngest man, whom Maria had kicked in the face, had groggily shuffled back to check on the young woman, who was starting to come around. The stocky man had managed to rise to one knee, though his face was still contorted in agony.
“We’re… not here… to hurt you…” the stocky man said, his raspy voice straining to speak the words with any volume.
Maria pulled the sidearm from her jacket pocket and chambered a round, causing the stocky man to hold up a hand to shield his face. “Please! We’re part of a resistance group. You’re Maria Salus, aren’t you?”
Page felt his stomach flutter and glanced over to Maria, but her face remained steely and taught. “Why should I believe you? You’re just one of Kurren’s thugs sent to kill us. Well, you failed.” Then she clicked off the safety.
Page wanted to call out, to tell her to give him a chance, but he stayed silent and followed her lead.
“No, we heard that you’d returned!” the man continued, managing to string together a sentence without pausing every second for breath. “But, Major Darien has half of the Security Corps out looking for you. Ashley sent us to find you first.”
Maria clicked the safety back on. “Ashley who?”
“Ashley Jansen,” the man replied, rising gingerly to his feet. His delicate movements seemed absurd considering his powerful frame. “She set up our group.”
“Can you take me to her?” said Maria. She was still suspicious, but his story made sense, and she desperately wanted to believe it.
“No, it looks too suspicious if we’re all together,” said the man, and then he reached into his jacket pocket.
Maria instantly clicked off the safety and jabbed the barrel at him. “Woah, slow down, big guy.”
The man froze and his face went pale. Very slowly he removed a card from his pocket. “It’s just an ident. It will get you in. Block four, second floor, room four. She may still be there now, if you hurry.” He tossed the card over to Maria and stepped back.
Maria continued to cover the man, so Page bent down and picked up the ident; he examined it, but the card was completely blank.
“It’s a spike,” said the stocky man. “A hacked high-level ident; they’re very difficult to make, but untraceable.”
Maria saw the younger man move in her peripheral vision and swung the barrel of the weapon over to him, but he was simply helping the young woman to her feet. Both looked in bad shape; worse than the stocky man, but neither had cried out to raise an alarm, which leant credibility to their claims.
“If you’re lying, I’ll find you,” said Maria, flicking her eyes and the barrel of the weapon back to the stocky man. The threat had a dark sincerity to it, and even Page felt a chill run down his spine.
“When this is all over, I hope you do,” said the man, shuffling across to join his partners. “Until then, good luck, Maria Salus.”
Maria and Page held each other’s eyes for a few seconds, then backed away from the injured trio until they reached the end of the alley. They had gotten used to reading each other’s expressions, and neither needed words to communicate their agreement to follow up on the stocky man’s claims. They made their weapons safe, concealed them again, and then left the resistance fighters behind.
“We should hurry, there’s still a chance they were lying,” said Maria, rushing out ahead of Page.
At the entrance to block four, Page removed the hacked ident from his pocket and pressed it to the square, silver panel. Maria could hear her pulse throbbing in her ears as they waited, until eventually the panel surround turned green and the locking mechanism clicked open. Maria pulled the door open and they both crept inside, still communicating with each other only via looks and glances. It seemed ridiculous to stay quiet, Maria thought, but somehow it felt safer not to speak, as if the silence helped them to become invisible.
They jogged up the stairs to the second floor and entered a wide corridor with rooms on either side. Heart thumping in her chest Maria crept down the corridor, counting the numbers on the doors until they came to number four; Ashley Jansen’s office. Maria tried the handle, but the door was locked. Page stepped forward and tried the hacked ident against the panel and the lock clicked open. He grabbed the handle and looked across to Maria.
“Ready?” he whispered and Maria nodded.
Page pushed the handle down and stepped into the room. Inside was a single occupant, standing a few meters back from the door with her hands behind her back, as if standing to attention. She had dark brown hair, streaked with silver, which was tied up tightly at the rear, but hung down messily at the sides of a diamond-shaped face with sharp, brown eyes that were fixed on Page. Neither spoke, and then the woman brought her hands forward and raised a pistol, aiming it squarely at Page’s head.
Chapter 12
Governor Kuba heard the door to the service entrance swing open, and swiveled in his enormous black chair to see Major Darien entering the Teardrop. The service entrance was concealed to the rear of the huge glass capsule, poised high above the government sector. It was accessed via a large elevator and was one of only two ways into the Teardrop, the other being the grand main entrance in government square, which had been designed to wow any visiting dignitaries. Kuba had entered an hour earlier using the main entrance, considering it befitting of his status and ambition, and he found it telling that Darien had chosen the lesser of the two routes. It was almost as if the bungling major was announcing his unworthiness to hold high office, and it merely crystallized in Kuba’s mind what needed to be done.
“Ah, welcome Major Darien, please come in,” said Kuba with his characteristic greasy charm. “I took the liberty of having some refreshments brought up earlier, so that we could talk undisturbed.” He gestured to a tray, containing a clear, crystal decanter filled with a honey-yellow liquid, and an assortment of small dishes filled with a selection of finger foods. “But first, what news of Maria Salus and Major Page?”
Kuba had already reviewed the latest intelligence, which he had ordered to be made available to him the instant that Major Darien’s communication had been circulated, granting Kuba
effective military rank equal to that of Darien. But he considered it a good ice-breaker, and a way to steer the conversation immediately to the matters at hand. Despite his love of talking, and his propensity for verbosity, even when saying the simplest things, Kuba did not care for small talk. Or, at least, he did not care for the inconsequential trivialities of lesser men.
“Still no word on their location,” grunted Darien, slumping into the plush, high-backed black chair next to Kuba and grabbing a handful of one of the snacks on the tray, which he then shoveled into his mouth. “Though we have recon drones and teams out in every sector.”
Kuba watched him with disgust, noting that the Major also had seemingly not shaved and that his uniform was creased, as if he’d slept in it.
“There was one strange reading,” Darien went on, still talking with his mouth full. “Something tripped a sensor alarm in the engineering void between two sectors. It could just have been a glitch, but we’re going to check it out, anyway.”
“Very good, Major Darien,” said Kuba, smoothly, though he already knew of the reading and of the team that had been ordered to investigate it. “I hear there are reports of growing insurgent groups. We should redouble our efforts to locate these criminals, before their ranks swell to greater numbers.”
“Yes, yes, we’re doing all we can, ” said Darien, dismissing Kuba’s comment, but then he sat upright and leaned in towards him. “Anyway, we should pick up our conversation about what to do next. Whether we find Salus or not, General Kurren is dead and no-one else is coming back from that barren wasteland of a planet, so we need to come up with an exit plan for this mess; one where we are protected.”
“Of course!” said Kuba with his easy smile. “Though, as I mentioned, that requires delicate handling and should not be rushed. Our first priority is to capture Maria Salus and Major Page, in order to regain control of the situation. Once their disruptive influence is contained, I can speak to the council of ministers and discuss a transition back to civilian government; one where you are not personally held accountable for General Kurren’s actions, naturally.”
