by Lowry, Chris
“Father . . .”
She longed to run to him, fight by his side, along with the villagers that attacked from hidden fortifications and from behind trees. They were no match for the Troopers, whose computers sought them out and volleyed showers of plasma bolts.
A blast slammed into Banger, he slid into two pirates slumped over a wall. Bodies were scattered everywhere, fallen in different patterns.
“Their stun is set too high,” Darwin yelled down to her. He scrambled over the edge of the pit and ran pell mell for the Troops, scooping up a small stick.
Reanna shifted her weight off of the Templar and peered over the edge.
Darwin ran into the middle of the clearing, dodging blasts and bolts. A Trooper ran up to him, rifle butt raised to smash him down.
Robe hurtled out of nowhere, tackling the Trooper. He ripped and tore at the Suit, trying to dislodge a vital hose, or find a chink in the armor. Too late, a plasma bolt caught him in the back. He flipped over, landing face down. A Trooper bent over, lifted him to his shoulder and rocketed into the sky.
A second Trooper grabbed Darwin by the arm and dragged him into the air.
“Robe!” the Templar crawled out of the pit and collapsed.
Reanna wrapped her hand around his leg and pulled him back, shoving him deep into the mud.
“You have to stay here,” she whispered in his ear, stroking his burning forehead.
His arm was bleeding through the dressing, dripping and mixing with the mud. She held her hand against it, applying pressure.
Outside the pit, she could hear the whine of the plasma blasts tapering off. She didn’t dare look, but the dawning quiet was driving her crazy. She could hear voices, but didn’t recognize them and couldn’t make out what they said. Every fiber of her being burned for fight, to avenge her father and the village.
Then, there was silence. She could hear retro rockets gearing down, and a hover car roaring through the sky, nose pointed to the Mainland. Still, she didn’t move. She held the Templar in her arms, rocking him slowly back and forth and wishing he had been well enough to fight for her village. She wondered who was left among the bodies.
Pip burst from the tree line, her rifle held high. She swept the clearing with her eyes, noting the bodies here and there. She stuck to the trees and made her way around to the hut, finally having to expose herself for a fast sprint to the doorway. It was empty. The village was still.
“Robe!”
“Here,” someone called from the far side of the village.
Pip ran to a mudhole where pigs were kept. She advanced to the edge, her rifle to her shoulder, ready. In the filth and much, Reanna cradled the Templar in her lap.
“Where’s Robe?”
“Troops,” Reanna spit.
“Why didn’t you help him?” Pip accused.
“It was his wish that I care for this one.”
She lugged the Templar out of the pit and handed him off to Pip.
“I would rather have fought for my people.”
Reanna began searching the bodies.
“They’re not breathing.”
Pip lay the Templar on the ground and went to search with her.
“Their stun setting was too high,” she explained, examining the bodies. “Three or four, I think. Anyone weak wouldn’t be able to handle it.”
“They kill Corsairs for fun,” Reanna’s voice was dead, she was so angry.
“We’re not supposed to. This was a peaceful village, as much as they knew. Even if you were housing a traitor, they wouldn’t kill.”
“They did!” Reanna screamed. She picked up the body of a small boy, barely twelve. He hung limp in her arms. “Look! See what they did!”
Pip had no answer. Reanna glared at her with hooded eyes.
“This will not go unanswered.”
Reanna stormed among the bodies, searching for any that would be alive. Pip followed, numb. Whenever they found a live one, she would carry them to a large fire in the clearing, to be administered to later.
“Trooper!” Reanna screamed for her.
Pip ran to her side.
“My father is there,” she pointed to a small pile of three bodies. “I cannot-”
Pip hurried to the bodies. Reanna turned away.
Banger was burned from the flash fire of the plasma bolt. His clothes were smoldering where he had been hit. Pip had seen men shot before, had studied vid after vid of the horrors of battle. She still felt a small tingle of dread dance up her spine as she reached to turn him over.
“He’s breathing,” she called to Reanna.
The warrior girl ran up beside her and held her father.
“He’s hurt bad,” she said.
“I’ve got a Computer in the car. We need it for anyone left.”
Reanna nodded.
“You’ll have to gather the rest by yourself.”
“I can.”
“And watch the Templar.”
“He brought this on us,” she stated simply.
Pip nodded, no argument adequate to counter the claim.
“He could have stopped it if he was well.”
“I should kill him while he sleeps.”
“I don’t think you would be able to,” Pip said. “He’s got an instinct for survival.”
She rose to go to the car.
“And if you did, I would kill you.”
She jogged into the woods. Reanna watched her go, sure she meant her words. but still not ready to give up the notion of killing the Templar. Maybe she would after she cared for her villagers.
“Computer,” Harry dictated to his terminal. “Contact the Commander. Inform her our mission was a partial success. We are returning with the traitor and the Doctor. They report to us that the prisoner and the other Trooper were drowned when their car was shot down by Corsairs.”
Darren pinched Darwin’s cheek.
“Anything you want to add to that?”
“I’ll lodge a formal protest. You attacked a peaceful farming community and slaughtered it’s occupants.”
Darren shoved his head against the steel bulkhead.
“That was a pirate base of operations. We did not return fire until we were fired upon,” Harry called from the controls.
“You used a concussion bomb,” Darwin yelled.
Darren slapped him hard, busting his bottom lip.
“Who do you think the Computer will believe?”
He walked to his terminal to key in a report.
“There was every indication that this area was hot, and we would encounter heavy resistance. We did everything by the book.”
The Computer chimed when the report was filed.
“Lodge your compliant, old man,” Harry laughed from his seat. “We’ve got it taken care of.”
“Everything’s taken care of,” Bram assured her.
They were going over security arrangements for the fund-raiser that would take place in three days. Nova had begun spot inspections twice a day, meeting with every head of any department imaginable, worrying about the event.
“You’re worried for nothing,” Bram consoled her, following dutifully, taking notes of the changes she dictated and giving his opinion when asked.
“You’re very sure about this,” she told him.
“We’ve planned for everything. That’s part of our code. Nothing can go wrong.”
She nodded, but still nursed her misgivings and kept up the inspection.
“I’ve got word from Harry,” he said.
She stopped, not sure what answer she wanted to hear.
“They got Robe and Darwin. They’re bringing them in.”
“And the Templar?”
Bram smiled.
“Darwin said the prisoner and Pip drowned when the plane was shot down.”
She felt like someone kicked her in the stomach. She couldn’t breath, hoped her legs would hold her up. She hoped it didn’t show.
“Dead?”
“Nothing we can confirm. But I ran the sc
enario through my Terminal access, and it concurred with ninety eight percent accuracy.”
Nova nodded and turned back to the inspection.
“That’s a good thing,” Bram said, noting her reaction.
“I know,” she offered lamely.
“We can inform the fund-raisers of his demise at our hands via the Corsairs. We drove him into them and it paid off.”
Again she nodded.
“Are you all right?”
“I just need to finish this so I can go rest. The prisoner may be . . . gone, but the Mob is still a viable threat.”
“Not according to the Computer.”
“My guts tell me different I say we prepare, and we prepare.”
It was his turn to nod.
“And we are. Everything you said to do.”
“Then let’s check it.”
She led him down the hall, double checking and even triple checking her contingency plans for the event.
“We need a plan,” Pip told her over the fire.
Bruce and Reanna tended the wounded, arrayed in various stages of repose around the central fire.
“They may come back. We need to be ready for them.”
“They won’t,” the Templar rasped.
Pip carried a small cup of water to him.
“How do you know? Our battle plans always call for mop up operations.”
He gulped the water greedily. She held the cup away from his mouth, rationing it out one swallow at a time.
“We have time. They won’t come back for days.”
“How do you know? They have Robe, Darwin, they-”
“They think we’re dead,” he said, laying back.
“Eat this,” Reanna shoved a piece of fruit in his face.
“Why would they think that?”
“Darwin was to tell you and Robe that if you were captured, I died in the crash.”
“He didn’t.”
“But he would have told the Troops when he was captured.”
“How could you know that?” Reanna asked. “You’ve been out cold for a day and a half.”
“Simple. I wasn’t out. I listened.”
“How?”
“I can’t explain. It’s my training. Our next step is to retrieve our men.”
“What do you mean, retrieve?” Pip snorted.
“We go for Darwin and Robe.”
“We can’t do that,” Bruce said. “They may not even be alive.”
“We will do that,” the Templar said, staring up into the nighttime sky. “You said we need a plan.”
“How will we get to the Mainland?” Pip asked.
“I have a boat,” Reanna offered. “But I have to go with you.”
The Templar nodded.
“Not only you, but every man you can muster. We are going on a big raiding party.”
“I can contact other islands, let the groups know.”
“They must agree to be led by me,” the Templar said.
“They won’t do that,” Reanna smirked.
“Then I do not need them.”
“Wait a minute,” said Pip. “How are you going to do this? You can barely move.”
“I am healing well.”
“You had an infection. You’re still fighting it off.”
“You’ve seen me fight,” he smiled like a wolf. “I do not lose.”
“Tough talk, but how will you get your men back?” asked Reanna.
“I will think on it. Call together your allies, and get me to the Mainland. The rest will fall into place.”
Robe sat stiffly in the chair across from the Commander, meeting her cold stare with a look of indifference.
She had yet to ask the question, why, but it hung between them like an unacknowledged wall. They had sat there for an hour after Darren and Harry led him through the doors.
He was battered and bruised, but they had wiped the blood off of his face and gave him new clothes to change into. Nova turned to her windows and watched a pale shadow in the reflection.
“I’m glad you’re back,” she started, but held herself back.
He refused to say anything.
She offered him drink, food but he didn’t move from his chair, or even speak, only stared at her.
Stephen buzzed the com.
“They’re bringing up the Doctor.”
“Send him in,” she answered. “What were you thinking Robe? You knew we’d have to catch you.”
“You were wrong.”
“Not according to the Computer.”
“The Computer is wrong. Do you know how we got here? Have they told you that much?”
“I read the report.”
“The report is fake,” he snapped.
“I watched the vids from the car camera.”
“Altered,” he countered. “Your men attacked a farming village.”
“You are one of my men,” she said, staring at him pointedly. “They were Corsairs. You know the penalty.”
“When caught in the act, yes but this was a peaceful community.”
“They fired first,” she argued.
“They couldn’t have. You dropped a concussion bomb. Almost everyone was knocked senseless.”
“That’s not on the vid,” she said.
Darwin entered the room, flanked by Bram and Darren. Nova turned her icy gaze on the Trooper.
“Did you use a concussion bomb on that village?”
“No sir,” he answered quickly. “We flew in supersonic, and there may have been a boom, but we didn’t drop a bomb.”
“You are lying,” said Darwin. He stood behind Robe. “I can tell you the truth.”
Darren interjected.
“The truth is Commander, you’ve seen the vids and read the Computer reports. We followed the rules of engagement to the letter on this one.”
“The vids were altered,” Robe said again.
“And you are a traitor,” Bram shouted back. “You broke your vow. How can we possibly trust you?”
Robe ignored him.
“Commander, look at me. What these men did was wrong.”
Nova looked from one face to the other in the two groups divided in front of her. Darwin stood behind Robe, lending his silent support. Bram and Darren assumed classic Trooper defensive positions, half back to back. She sat up in her desk.
“Bram’s right,” she said. “How can I trust you. We found you with Corsairs.”
Robe whispered over his shoulder to Darwin.
“We can’t win this.”
“It’s not in the winning,” he threw back his shoulders, stood taller. “It’s the fight against tyranny. That’s why I brought the Templar here.”
“He’s dead,” Darren laughed.
Nova felt a small pang in her stomach.
“Everyone out of here, now.”
“When is their execution?” Bram asked, hauling Robe out of the chair.
“I’ll decide later.”
“The Main Terminal calls for immediate.”
“I’ll make the call on this one. I am the Commander.”
“Yes sir,” the men withdrew, leaving her alone.
She wondered if a Computer record could be altered.
Nova keyed in a series of queries on her Terminal, and got the answer she expected. Computer documentation was accurate, too difficult to tamper with. That left one option, that Darwin and Robe had concocted the story. And if they lied about the attack, they may have lied about the Templar. Hope soared in her soul, but she brought it under control quickly. No use thinking about it. If the Templar was alive, he might chance a rescue of his friends. Better to kill them now, per the Computer’s recommendation. Still, if the Templar came, she might see him again, he might be captured, and if taken, subjugated. She almost couldn’t stand the thought of that, like caging a beautiful wild animal. But in this world, caged animals stayed alive the longest.
“Stephen,” she said softly, knowing he would answer.
“Sir?” he opened the door.
“Call Bram. Tell him to triple the guard.”
“Expecting trouble?”
“I hope so,” she almost said aloud. Instead, she shrugged.
The dull throb of engines knocked through the corridors of the small, dank ship. The vessel had been recycled so many times, the hull was a patchwork quilt of repairs, different colors and types of materials stitched together forming a rough shell of what used to be.
But it was seaworthy, ignoring the pumps running twenty four seven to keep the hold down to five inches of water. And if you stayed in the upper two levels of cabins. The rest were devoted to mundane and insane sea practices that Pip had no desire to learn about.
Instead, she chose to remain in the cabin with the Templar, watching him as he recovered.
His voice was slightly raspy, and he didn’t move from the small cot in the corner. He gave directions though, and the Corsairs chose to follow his orders. He gave no loft speeches of glory and faith, he only demanded total acquiescence on their part. The men complied or were left behind, and any thoughts of mutiny were kept buried deep in their hearts.
An overt action was met with a swift reprisal from Reanna.
“I threw someone over again today,” she told him on their second day out.
“How many now? Five?” he joked.
“Six. They want to kill you.”
“They are welcome to try.”
“They might. You are still weak.”
“Why don’t you let them, then?”
“You’re taking me to revenge. We just happen to be going the same way,” she said, propping her feet up on the cot next to him. “I may kill you yet.”
He nodded and leaned back into his small pillow.
“Every day, I get stronger. Soon, you won’t be able to stop me.”
“I’ll get you while you sleep,” she smiled.
“I may take you swimming again.”
“Think you can fight off another shark?”
“If I must. I am familiar with them, now. I can anticipate.”
“They’ll take your other arm.”
He held up the bandaged left arm, curling all but the two end fingers into a tight ball.
“It will heal.”
Pip spoke up from a chair propped in the corner.
“I can steal a good Computer that will knit it correctly,” she said. “After we get Robe.”
