10 Light-Years to Insanity

by C M Dancha

The halo-screen went blank. The Lead Trifect looked at his underlings. “Tomorrow, put Officer Morg on a private comm number. I need to give him instructions on how he can stop the pending disaster facing Yanda.”

  37

  “Welcome home son. You look great. Just as handsome as your old man.”

  The kid avoided his father’s hug and simply shook his hand. “Sorry sir, I’m still sick so I don’t want to get too close to you.”

  “Hey, that’s okay. After eight years I’m not going to let a little bug come between us.”

  Prefect Conway embraced his son for a couple minutes. He then turned to face the crowd of dignitaries and reporters milling around on the docking platform.

  “Welcome guests. First, I’m pleased to present my son, Joseph Conway.” The Prefect waited for the reporters to take hundreds of halovisions before going on with his announcement. “He has been gone for almost nine years representing Earth on a very important secret mission. My office will be releasing a detailed brief explaining that mission. I cannot tell you how great it is to have him back on Earth. To celebrate his homecoming, I will be hosting an informal reception….”

  The kid’s mind was elsewhere. He didn’t care what his old man was saying. Who cared if there was going to be a homecoming party, festivities, and formal dinner? The kid had only one thing on his mind. Find Beth and make his old man’s life miserable.

  He scanned the crowds looking for the innocent, young lady he left almost nine years before. Every time he saw someone who looked like her, he wanted to bolt through the crowd to embrace her. But she wasn’t in the crowd. It was unlikely she would intentionally miss his arrival. There were only two possible explanations. Either she was working or gone.

  The Prefect watched his son in his peripheral vision as he spoke to the crowd. He knew exactly why the kid was scanning the crowd. He sought the love of his life. The romantic fool would rush to her and hold her in his loving arms if he could. His son was a genius but terribly naïve when it came to women. Did he believe things were exactly the same as when he left Earth years before? The Prefect couldn’t help wondering how his son became so stupid when it came to this woman. Yes, she was good in bed but not any better than thousands of other women. Well, that was the kid’s error in judgement. Beth would stay hidden until he used her up as a bargaining chip. If his son wanted to see her again, he would do everything the future Prefect of the Universe wanted from him.

  The kid could feel the old man’s stare, but he didn’t dare look at him. If he did, he would likely attack and try to kill him. His crafty father had most likely out-maneuvered him again and spirited Beth away. He would never find her. He needed to calm down and not let the old man know her absence was driving him crazy. It would come out eventually what he did with her and why.

  He caught a glimpse of the two assassins being led from the transport by Earth authorities. The kid knew he made a huge mistake by not ejecting these two agents into space before landing the transport on Earth.

  Two-deep in the crowd, Millard Miller stood trying to think of a way to reach his agent before the Prefect’s men went to work on him. He also wondered why his agent hadn’t committed suicide by taking a death capsule. The only being pleased to see the two agents alive was Prefect Conway.

  Morg still didn’t know a thing about the agents other than the Verasiun put a vap pistol round through his shoulder. Why he did this and where the one called Omar came from was a mystery. Between sleeping for hours and communicating with the Lead Trifect there wasn’t time to hear the Earthling’s account of how these two losers got on the transport. If he could get the kid alone in the next day or two, he might find out who these two assassins worked for.

  Morg stood at the top of the transport ramp watching and listening. He was still in tough shape. The illness had tapered off, so he was no longer delirious. However, his shoulder was still in the initial stages of healing. Every movement was painful. If he moved too fast or awkwardly the pain was extreme. If it wasn’t for pain-abatement drugs and several hits from the Cannis dispenser, he would most likely pass out.

  His immediate concern was what Prefect Conway just announced to the crowd. Had he heard the Prefect correctly? His son was supposedly on an important and secretive mission for the past nine years? That didn’t jibe with what he and the Trifect knew about the kid. Or, what they thought they knew about the kid. If the Prefect was telling the truth, what the hell mission was the kid on? The obvious answer was that he was spying on Yanda. But, what information did he gather and for who? He would tell the Lead Trifect tomorrow what the Prefect said about his son’s secret mission. Most likely it wouldn’t be necessary. He was sure Yandan comm technicians were monitoring every public broadcast from Earth and Florid.

  * * *

  “I don’t know anymore. I’ve told you everything I know.”

  The victim slumped over in his chair bleeding from every orifice in his body. His torturers were masters at their trade. They had years of experience working for Prefect Conway. Their methods were foolproof. The mental and physical torture they used always resulted in complete and accurate confessions.

  “Okay, tell us again.”

  “First, water or a hit of Cannis.”

  “When you get done Verasiun; not before.”

  The Verasiun mustered his remaining energy, forced some saliva to his throat and began.

  “I overheard the Prefect’s son confess to Officer Morg.”

  “What was Officer Morg doing during this confession?”

  The Verasiun wanted to scream his answer but knew he didn’t have enough energy in reserve. “I already told you. Morg was passed out on an operating cot in sickbay.”

  “So, Joseph Conway was talking to himself?”

  “Yeah, I guess you could say that. He talked to himself while he patched Morg’s wounds.”

  “Go on.”

  “The Prefect’s son said he was leading an army of ten thousand warriors against the Yandan empire. I think he called himself an Exalted Comrade or something like that.”

  “You said First Comrade before.”

  “That’s right, he called himself a First Comrade.”

  The Verasiun waited for another pulse shock to his testicles. When it didn’t come, he blabbered on before his torturers thought he needed more prodding.

  “His army is approaching Yanda and their allies on cloaked planets and weapon platforms.”

  “The entire planet is cloaked? For how long?”

  “I don’t know. He didn’t say. All I remember was that once the Yandan empire was overthrown he would do the same to his father. He would then become King of the Universe.”

  “What else?”

  The Verasiun knew he had forgotten something but was having a tough time remembering his prior confessions. “Ah, Ah, oh yeah. He talked about making someone named Betha his queen.”

  “Do you mean Beth?”

  “Maybe. It might have been. I don’t know. I really need something to drink.”

  “Soon, Verasiun. Did you believe what Joseph Conway said.”

  “When I confronted him, he tried to deny it. But, yes, I believed every word. Morg was passed out and he didn’t know I was listening. There was no reason for him to lie to himself.”

  The inquisition of the Verasiun went on for hours. He was given only enough drugs and liquid to keep conscious and talking. The interrogation method used on him was quite simple. Twist, turn, verify, repeat, and go over his story a hundred different ways. After hours of questioning, the only story remaining was the truth. No one, including the Verasiun, had a good enough memory to remember every lie after extensive torture.

  In a room not far from the Verasiun’s interrogation, the second assassin taken off the transport was interviewed by members of the Prefect’s secret militia. The interrogation method used on him was completely different. It was a friendly interview often referred to as a debriefing. Anything the agent asked for he got. Food, Cannis, and plenty of rest w
ere the tools of his interrogators. The Prefect’s men were his pals. He did anything he could to make them happy.

  “Omar, can I call you Omar?”

  “Sure, go ahead.”

  “First, I want to tell you that Prefect Conway is very pleased with the results of your mission. He has authorized a bonus which you will receive in a few days. How does that sound?”

  “That’s great.”

  “You understand how important it is for the Prefect to know everything you saw and heard on his son’s ship? It’s the only way he can make sound decisions as the leader of Earth. So, don’t hold back on anything. Tell us everything no matter how difficult it might be to repeat or how trivial you believe it is. The future of Earth depends on your truthful testimony. Do you understand?”

  “Sure. I’ll tell you exactly what happened.”

  “Great! You mentioned earlier that Joseph locked you to a support post and gave you a deep wound cleansing pad for your vap pistol burns. In your own words, what happened after that? Don’t leave out anything, Omar.”

  “Well, let’s see. After Joseph gave me the pad, I rubbed it over my injured hand and fell asleep. When I regained consciousness, I heard Joseph and the Verasiun arguing about something. The Verasiun wanted his restrictor bracelet taken off which Joseph wouldn’t do. I pretended to be asleep. I remembered the amplifier bud concealed in my wristband, so I snuck it into my ear. Before long, Joseph placed a communication to a private comm channel.”

  “Do you remember the private channel number?”

  Omar shook his head trying in earnest to remember the number. “Sorry, I don’t”

  “That’s okay. What happened next?”

  “It was kind of hard hearing exactly what was said because the Verasiun was shouting smart-ass comments at Joseph. But whoever answered the communication referred to Joseph as a First Comrade, whatever that is. It seemed like Joseph was this being’s superior. Anyhow, they talked about some Yandan Interceptors destroyed by hitting cloaked planets. Joseph was worried and spent a lot of time trying to figure out how they should respond. If I remember correctly, he said something like, “how can we turn this situation to our favor?”

  “Do you remember how many Interceptors and what did he mean by cloaked planets?”

  “I think he said five or six Interceptors. I haven’t got any idea what he meant by cloaked planets. I’ve never heard of such a thing. Have you?”

  “No, Omar, I haven’t. What happened then?”

  “There was some type of commotion on the receiving end of the communication. Whoever Joseph was talking to got more and more excited.”

  “Why did he do that, Omar?”

  “He kept referring to an explosive found on something called a Shooting Star. He was afraid his technicians couldn’t disarm it.”

  “What did Joseph say to that?”

  Omar looked up sheepishly at his pals and shrugged. “Nothing. Absolutely nothing. He ended the communication.”

  The two militia interviewers looked at each other and wondered what the sudden end to Joseph’s communication meant. One thought Omar must be mistaken and missed a critical piece of Joseph’s communication. The other began to wonder if Omar was intentionally misleading them. Over the next several hours the interviewers questioned Omar, filling in the blanks in his story. They were as non-confrontational and agreeable as possible. It wasn’t easy. With their military background and use of harsh tactics, it was difficult not grabbing Omar and beating the information out of him.

  Joseph’s communication to an unknown being somewhere in the universe consumed the interviewers. They were so focused on this conversation and its ramifications, they forgot to ask Omar if he heard anything else. Omar followed their lead and used all his brain power to remember what was said during Joseph’s communication to a private comm number.

  After a wonderful dinner, Omar went to bed satisfied he told his pals everything he heard and saw on the transport. He dreamed about the bonus coming his way. Everything that happened on the transport flashed through his dreams. The only thing missing was the communication Officer Morg and Joseph had with the Lead Trifect.

  * * *

  “So, let me see if I have this right. The Verasiun claims he heard my son say he was leading an invasion force against Yanda and her allies. His army is sneaking up on Yanda using cloaked planets and weapon platforms. And, when they’re done winning that war, he’s turning his army on Earth. And, after that victory, he will crown himself King of the Universe. Is that accurate?”

  The supervisor of the militia interrogation team sat upright in the chair across from Prefect Conway. The stoic expression on his face was normal. In over twenty years, Prefect Conway hadn’t seen the man display any sort of emotion. At times, he comically wondered if the militia supervisor and Mentat were relatives. But now, there was nothing funny about what his man reported.

  “That’s correct, Prefect.”

  Conway fought to keep his anger in check. He could throw a fit later. But for now, it was important not to let the militiaman know what he thought about his double-crossing son. The son who was just added to his enemy list. The son whose life meant nothing more than a piece of dung. And, the son who would suffer the consequences.

  “The other agent I hired said what?”

  “His name is Omar, sir. He claims to have overheard a communication between your son and an unknown being somewhere in the universe. Omar believes the unknown being is an important supervisor in Joseph’s army. He told Joseph about the Yandan Interceptors crashing into their cloaked planets and weapon platforms. He also said they found an explosive on something called a Shooting Star and didn’t know how to deactivate it. We’ve been able to confirm that the Yandans have an experimental Interceptor called the Shooting Star.”

  “Was that all they talked about?”

  “Apparently, Joseph spent a lot of time thinking about how to deal with the crashing Interceptor problem. Omar said he was about to explain how to deal with the problem when the communication mysteriously ended.”

  “Who ended it?”

  “Prefect, Omar doesn’t know who or why.”

  There wasn’t any question in the Prefect’s mind that his son was a back-stabbing, son-of-a-bitch. The kid had an army and planned to use it to overthrow Yanda and his dictatorship. He admired the kid’s initiative and creativity, but he had gone too far. He would have to pay the ultimate price for disloyalty.

  After accepting his son as a traitor, Conway mellowed and began thinking about the technical piece of this new information. Was it true a large planet could cloak long enough to creep up on its enemy undetected? What an incredible piece of military hardware permanent cloaking could be. The more he thought about it, the more he relished the thought of having this knowledge. He had to think of a way to provoke his worthless son into turning over this technology.

  “Should I have the Mentat question these two? As you know, he can tell when someone is lying.”

  “I don’t think that’s necessary, sir. I’m very confident we got the truth out of both of them.”

  “Very good. Excellent job. Here’s what I want you to do. Send your interrogators on vacation to a remote planet. I don’t want them on Earth for a couple days. And, make sure they keep their mouths shut. Anything they heard from Omar and the Verasiun is top-secret, confidential, not to be repeated.”

  “No problem, Prefect.”

  Conway got up from the conference table and started for the door. At the last second, he stopped and added, “Get rid of Omar and the Verasiun.”

  The militia supervisor knew exactly what that meant. The Verasiun had collected his last bit of useful information to sell and Omar wasn’t getting a bonus from The Prefect.

  38

  The homecoming gala for Joseph Conway started at 10 a.m. and was still going strong at midnight. Everywhere Officer Morg looked there was entertainment and festivities. Cannis dispensers were plentiful for those who wanted to get and stay high. Ki
rrleon warriors gave demonstrations of jousting combat while riding Serian hawks. Three theaters on the perimeter of the government campus performed non-stop plays. The most popular thespians in the universe played the lead roles. Every type of old or popular music could be heard. Games of skill, trickery, and dexterity challenged the old, young, quick, and dim-witted.

  Prefect Conway spared no expense to bring the best entertainers to Earth from the four corners of the universe. Joseph’s homecoming was equal to any royal celebration.

  Miller Millard and most of Earth’s Global Union Assembly didn’t share the Prefect’s enthusiasm. They saw his extravagance as frivolous spending. It served no purpose other than welcoming back to Earth a royal pain-in-the-ass.

  In the early afternoon, Morg snuck off to place a communication to the Lead Trifect. The communication only lasted ten minutes. The Lead Trifect had a prepared plan for Morg to follow during the homecoming celebration and toxic gas condensator demo at Mikilopii volcano.

  “Lead Trifect, did you see the broadcast of Prefect Conway welcoming his son home?”

  “Yes, all of us watched it. Quite touching, wasn’t it?”

  “I don’t know about touching, but did you hear him say his son spent the last eight years on a secret mission for Earth?”

  “Officer Morg, we knew Joseph Conway was sent to Yanda as a spy. We watched every move and communication he made while he was here. His mission was to evaluate our military preparedness and health of the planet. He reported back to his father how long our atmosphere would last without an infusion of toxic gases. There was no sense trying to hide the condition of our atmosphere. It’s widely known and can be found out through any number of different sources.”

  “Then, why did you allow him to stay on Yanda?”

  “Because we fed him misinformation about our military. His old man bought most of it. Anyhow, when he outlived his usefulness, we tactfully sent him back to Earth on the transport. Someday, after things calm down, I’ll tell you exactly how we used Joseph.”