by Gregg Vann
“We found this intruder on the outskirts of camp,” the Exile said gruffly, and then S’to pulled a badly beaten man inside the room and threw him down on the floor.
Tana observed that one of the man’s arms was bandaged, but she could tell it was an older wound. The swollen tissue and oozing blood were fresh, though, as was the collection of red marks on his skin that would surely darken into bruises over the next few hours.
“We would have killed him, “S’to continued. “We tried to kill him. But he defeated five of our men before finally grabbing one and holding a knife to his throat. He says the Alpha sent him, and he has earned the right to be heard.”
The Alpha.
Barent.
Tana could tell from the man’s ripped and bloody clothing that he was from Le’sant. But who the hell was he?
Maybe he really does know something about Barent, she thought.
But he could also be a spy, Tana realized, or a scout for the Collective. But no mater who the man was, Tana wanted to hear what he had to say. She knew that all information, even disinformation, was useful.
“I will speak with him,” she said.
Despite Tana’s dismissive tone, S’to remained standing in the doorway. And it was abundantly clear that he meant to stay there.
“You can go,” Tana told the Exile, using a more forceful voice. “I’ll listen to his message and let you know if it’s important.”
S’to’s expression was resolute. And just like the rest of him, showed no signs of budging. “That man is dangerous,” he said, pointing down at the intruder. “I will not leave. If I let something happen to you…to Barent’s mate. He will kill me.”
“Take a good look at him,” Tana replied. “He can’t even stand up. He’s no threat to me.” Then her voice hardened, taking on a biting edge. “Your Alpha trusts my abilities as a warrior, S’to. I suggest that you do the same.”
The Exile glowered at her for a moment but then finally turned to leave. Tana knew it was Barent’s authority that made him go—not her own. But that was exactly why she’d invoked the Alpha’s title in the first place. Tana was beginning to understand how the Exiles thought and behaved, and that knowledge was proving very useful in controlling them—though manipulation might be a more apt description. As the door closed behind the volatile Exile, Tana leaned her back up against the wall and addressed the intruder.
“Who are you?” she demanded.
“My name is Dura,” the man replied. And then he pushed himself up off the ground and stood shakily before her. “I’m a sergeant with the Wardens.”
“The Wardens?” Tana exclaimed. “Where’s Barent?”
“He’s been captured by the Collective.”
Tana’s heart sank; the news was exactly as she’d feared. But her sorrow only lasted for a fraction of a second, and then her anger flared hotly, burning everything else away.
Tana stood up straight and stared into Dura’s eyes. “What the hell happened? Where is he?”
“The Collective attacked our base while we were meeting with Sergeant Barent, and he fell into enemy hands during the battle. There were just too many of them, we couldn’t stop it.”
“Where is he now?”
“They probably took him to the Central District for questioning.”
“Then I’m going after him,” Tana stated without hesitation.
She was already plotting a stealthy path through the city in her mind, determining the fastest route to the center of Le’sant. Tana was convinced that she could get to the Ministry building undetected, no matter how much security the Collective had in place. Of that, she had no doubt.
“You can’t go,” Sergeant Dura told her. “Not by yourself. You will fail.”
“Are you offering to help me, Warden?” Tana asked.
“The Wardens serve the Great Betrayer—as always. And we will do whatever we can to save him. But this war is what he wants; we know it.”
“This war be damned,” Tana spat. “We need to get Barent away from the Collective.”
“And we will,” Dura assured her. “But it’s the war that will make it possible. Once the fighting starts, the Collective troops will rush out from the barracks in Central District to respond, making it easier for us to get in and save Barent. Right now, they are all on high alert, expecting trouble. You wouldn’t get anywhere near him, no matter how good you are.”
In spite of his injuries, Sergeant Dura’s voice was as strong as his reasoning. “And do you honestly think that you can fight your way into the Ministry building, rescue Barent, and then fight your way back out again? All by yourself?”
On a rational level, Tana understood that Dura was right. But her emotions were telling her something entirely different, and it took all of her strength to keep from marching straight out the door and toward Le’sant. Tana knew she could get to the Ministry building, she’d infiltrated that part of town many times before, but was forced to admit that she could never get Barent out of there. The place was just too heavily guarded.
When the attack on the city began, the army would no doubt flood out to suppress it, leaving the Central District a much softer target. So in that regard, Dura’s plan made a lot of sense. But the longer Barent remained with the Collective, the greater the chance they would kill him.
Time was definitely not on their side.
As Tana continued her internal deliberations, Sergeant Dura weakly gestured toward the door. “I had my doubts when Barent told us about this army…and the Olin. I shouldn’t have, of course, but it was just so difficult to imagine that it was all true.”
“I was there when we first discovered the Olin,” Tana replied. “And I still have a hard time believing it.” Then her voice turned suspicious—her eyes narrowing perceptibly as she stared at the injured man. “How do I know that you aren’t a Collective spy, Dura? Trying to lead us into another trap like the one that snared Barent.”
“Sergeant Barent told me that the Olin crashed into a mountain outside the crater, and that you have thirty-three thousand troops in your force out there. I also knew exactly where to find you—and this place isn’t easy to locate. How else could I have known where it was? Though truthfully, he only told me the direction you followed out from the city. If I hadn’t stumbled into your forces, I would have probably never found the actual entrance.”
Sergeant Dura’s eyes flashed in anger—only for an instant—and then it was gone. “Barent also told me the truth about Major Kline…about what really happened to him. I know that you were there.”
“I was,” Tana acknowledged, noting the genuine emotion in Dura’s voice. There was no question that he was angry about what happened to Kline. But Tana still wasn’t convinced—far too much had gone wrong in her life lately, and experience taught her that it always paid to be cautious.
“You could have learned all those things from interrogating Barent,” she said.
Dura grinned, surprising Tana with his reaction. “Ms. Neng, I’ve only spent a small amount of time with Sergeant Barent, and most of that was in the middle of a battle, but I’m pretty damn sure that he wouldn’t break under any interrogation.”
“Yes,” she agreed. “I think you’re probably right about that.” Tana’s instincts told her that Dura was being honest. So despite her reluctance, she decided to trust him. “Tell me about the other Wardens? How many of you are left?”
“I’m not really sure how many survived the Collective assault,” Dura replied. “But what remains of us will be scattered around for safety reasons, hiding in the Outland slums. As I explained to Sergeant Barent, we’ve armed some of the downtrodden there with weapons we stole from the Collective armory—and stashed some explosives around as well. We have been hit hard—no question. But when the time comes, the Wardens will be ready.”
Tana’s eyes scrunched up as she fought to remember something she’d heard long ago. “You…the Wardens, I mean. You study warfare at the academy, right? Real battle strategies, like
they used back on Earth.”
“Yes,” Dura confirmed. “Even though a war within a single city and nation was never much of a possibility, the Wardens continued to study the ancient tactics. Martial knowledge is one of the cornerstones of a Warden’s education.”
“Excellent,” Tana said. “Then you’ll come in handy right now because Le’sant is no longer the only settlement on this planet, or even the only society, for that matter. And the Collective may not realize it yet, but they are about to go to war. A real war.”
Tana’s expression turned troubled as another thought crossed her mind. “What did you tell S’to about Barent?”
“Nothing at all. He wasn’t that interested in talking. Most of their efforts were directed at killing or intimidating me.”
“That’s good, because if they find out that Barent has been captured, this coalition will quickly tear itself to pieces. And you and I will be dead.”
“I don’t understand,” Dura replied. “Aren’t they loyal to the Great Betrayer?”
“The Exiles fear him because he killed their leader and took control of their army. And Barent’s skill as a warrior is the only thing that keeps them in line. If they found out he’d been captured, the first thing they would do is fight among themselves to establish a new leader. And once that was done, they’d attack the Olin, Le’sant, and us. But probably not in that order; I think we’d be killed first.”
“And what about the Olin?” Dura asked. “Why are they here?”
“Barent promised them that once we won the war, Le’sant would provide energy for the Olin, and train their people how to use all of the ship’s equipment. I think you’ll find that the Olin are far more reasonable to deal with than the Exiles, but they’re still only here as part of an agreement, not because of any personal loyalty to Barent,”
“I see,” Dura replied.
He didn’t bother asking Tana about her own reasons for following Barent, they were written all over her face. The worry he saw there told Dura everything he needed to know.
“So the situation is entirely unstable,” he stated. “To say the least.”
“That it is,” Tana agreed. “But unfortunately, it’s what we have to work with. So we’d better get busy. You’re the new resident expert on warfare, Sergeant Dura. What do you need to devise a plan to take the city?”
“I already know about Le’sant,” Dura said. “And the strengths and weaknesses of the Collective military. What I need most is to meet these troops of yours, in a proper way, so I can evaluate their capabilities. Once I see what they can do, I can start putting something together.”
“Perfect,” Tana said.
She threw Sergeant Dura a plasma rifle and he caught it with his good arm. “And while you’re at it, give the Olin a Warden master-class on how to use these things.”
“We don’t have ti—”
“The best you can do, Sergeant.”
“Will they even listen to me?” Dura asked. “To us?”
“If they think we represent Barent, then yes. So we lie and say he’s waiting for us in the city.”
“That’s not really a lie though, is it? He is waiting for us. Waiting for us to come and rescue him.”
“Gah!” Tana yelled in frustration.
She slammed the lid down on the storage crate next to her, sending a deep, hollow sound echoing throughout the room. But then Tana quickly calmed herself, fearful that her outburst might draw S’to’s attention…and questions.
“I need to go,” Tana said through clenched teeth. “I have ways of sneaking through Le’sant. I know I can reach him.”
“And then what?” Dura asked her. “Fight the entire Collective army by yourself? Besides, I saw the way S’to deferred to you—just barely. Will he and his troops follow my orders after you’ve gone?”
“No,” Tana admitted reluctantly.
“Then you have no choice but to stay here. As soon as the attack begins, and the Collective army is on the move, I’ll detail some of my Wardens to accompany you on a mission to free Barent. We want him back just as badly as you do, believe me. We’ll need the Great Betrayer to persuade the people to join us in the struggle against the Collective.”
Dura stood up a little straighter, and then purposefully strode over to the door. Tana admired how quickly he seemed to be recovering. Lesser men would be in a hospital, but Sergeant Dura appeared ready to fight.
He was definitely a Warden, all right.
“Before I can start,” he said, “you’ll have to come with me and explain my role in all of this. I doubt they’ll just take my word for it.”
Tana joined him at the door. But as Dura moved to pull it open, she pushed it shut again, giving him a dire look.
“There are some new clothes over in the storage crates, Sergeant. You might want to get cleaned up and change while I go out and speak with everyone. And remember: whatever you do, don’t let them find out that Barent has been captured. You’ll be killed outright, and I may well end up with a new mate.
“Then I’ll lie as if my life depends on it,” Sergeant Dura assured her.
“Good,” she replied.
“Because it does.”
CHAPTER THIRTY-FOUR
Interrogation
Sergeant Barent looked around the sparsely furnished room and frowned.
He had been in worse spots than this before, and it certainly wasn’t the first time he’d faced interrogation. But Barent wasn’t worried about himself, he was concerned for Tana and the Wardens. What would happen to them now that he was out of the picture? And what would this failure mean for the future of Le’sant?
For the people of Le’sant.
He slammed his manacled fists down on the metal table in front of him, sending a loud clanging noise reverberating throughout the room. But Barent knew the gesture was not only futile, but largely self-indulgent. Because unless he counted the two empty chairs across from him, or the single locked cabinet sitting next to the room’s only door, there was no one else around to witness his frustration.
As he leaned back in the chair, Barent heard the locks disengage and the door swung open. He suspected it was just the guards again, performing their routine half-hour check on him. It was a pattern they’d followed fastidiously during the four hours Barent estimated he’d been held in the room—ever since the quiet and uncomfortable ride back to the city following his abduction at the breakdown facility. But as the door shut behind them, Barent was surprised to see a pair of visitors instead. He recognized one of them.
“The Great Betrayer,” the unfamiliar man said, a combination of scorn and amusement in his voice. “My name is Minister Golen.” He then gestured toward the second man. “I believe you already know General Malves.”
“We met at the breakdown yards,” Barent quipped. He stared at Golen for a long moment, pointedly sizing him up. “So you are the leader of the Collective. I have to admit, Golen, I’m a bit disappointed. You look no different than any other governmental apparatchik I’ve been forced to deal with over the years. I was genuinely expecting someone a little more impressive.”
Golen smiled insincerely. “Well I’m impressed with you, Sergeant Barent—a living legend, right in front of me. It’s quite an experience, I assure you.”
“I’m glad you’re enjoying it,” Barent said. “I believe you’ll have some other new experiences very soon, Golen. Incarceration or death are my best guesses, but who really knows what the future holds?”
“You seem to underestimate your own predicament, Sergeant. I’m afraid that you’ll be the one dying today, not me.”
“Then I suppose we’ll just have to wait and see which one of us was right,” Barent replied. He gave Golen a confident smile, prompting a curious look from the head of the Collective.
General Malves remained standing near the door as Golen slid one of the chairs out from underneath the table, taking a seat directly across from Barent.
“Aren’t you afraid that I might try to kil
l you?” Barent asked him.
Golen smirked. “I think those shackles would make it most difficult. And I’ve read enough about you in the Vade to know that you wouldn’t kill an unarmed man, Sergeant Barent. The last testaments of your friends and colleagues tell us a great deal about your character. You really should read them sometime; they are quite fascinating. Unfortunately, I don’t think you’ll live long enough to get the chance.”
Minister Golen took a deep, exaggerated breath, and then worked to soften his expression. He clasped both hands together in front of himself, attempting to appear sincere. But Barent saw right through the well-practiced duplicity. Golen may have been a master manipulator, but his efforts were wasted on Barent.
“I’m not going to lie to you, Sergeant Barent, or urge you to cooperate with us in some hopeless bid to save your own life. I think you’re smart enough to realize that’s not going to happen. But by putting all of this behind us now—right here, in this room—we can save the lives of many others. The innocent lives of the citizens of Le’sant. Anyone caught up in this dissent you’re trying to foment will surely die. The army will see to that, Sergeant, I assure you. And their blood will be on your hands if we don’t work together to put an end to this unrest.”
Minister Golen reached inside his shirt pocket and pulled out a small electronic pad, sliding it over to Barent.
“I’ve taken the liberty of writing out a last testament for you, Sergeant. I even had it pre-formatted for inclusion in the Vade—and for broadcast as a general news release over the datanet. It explains in great detail how you are nothing more than an impostor fabricated by the Wardens—a pawn, in a misguided and hopeless effort to seize control of the government. I think you’ll find the story quite compelling.”
