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Harry Heron: Into the Unknown

Page 25

by Patrick G Cox


  Dawn found him asleep in his wing chair next to the cold hearth.

  “SEAN, I DON’T KNOW WHERE THE BOYS ARE, but I am certain they live.” Cupping the mug of small beer he’d drawn for himself and his groom, the Major added, “The stallion dream came again last night. It would not come if they were dead.”

  Sean O’Connor stared into his mug. He knew the Major’s premonitions were astoundingly accurate. He didn’t often have them, but when he did, they were invariably right. Sean owed his own life to one. Yet he wondered—how could the boys be alive?

  He didn’t voice his doubt. Instead, he merely said, “Aye, but where’d they be then? Taken by some o’ them Araby slave traders?”

  “Perhaps.” The Major frowned, remembering the strangeness of the landscape in the dream. Then he shook his head. “No, not Araby...it was very different from that desert landscape, yet unlike any I have seen in my travels. And there was a chasm separating me from Harry—so great a chasm as to be impassable. I think our sons are alive and in danger, but in a place from which they cannot return.”

  “May God and t’ saints protect ’em.” Sean O’Connor sounded braver than he felt, but his early life had been hard, and he had learned from a young age to take the good with the bad. “There’s naught we can do for ’em but pray.”

  JERKING AWAKE, HARRY WAS TOTALLY DISORIENTED. At first, he thought he was still asleep and having a nightmare, then that he might be reacting to something he’d eaten. His limbs seemed to be outside of his control, and he felt dizzy and cold.

  Something, or someone, seemed to be trying to speak to him. He tried to see what or who might be doing this, but apart from a slight shimmer surrounding everything he looked at, he could see nothing. Then his father appeared standing at the foot of his bed. Harry tried to speak, and couldn’t.

  Trapped inside his own head, Harry felt angry and alarmed at his helplessness. Then, almost immediately, a feeling of comfort filled him. His father smiled and disappeared.

  The whole experience left him knowing that he needed to tell Sub-Lieutenant Trelawney immediately. He dressed quickly and made his way to the lieutenant’s hotel room.

  The door opened to his knock, and the tall figure of Trelawney filled it. “Problem, Harry?”

  “Yes, sir,” blurted Harry. “Can I talk to you privately?”

  “Is it that urgent?”

  “It is, sir,” said Harry. “Something’s wrong—I’ve had a very strange visit.”

  “Then you’d better come in—but this is irregular, you know.”

  “I know, sir, but it was very strange and troubling.”

  Admitting Harry, the sub-lieutenant shut the door and gestured to a chair. “Well, Harry, what’s happened?”

  “Sir, you may remember a few weeks back something happened to me aboard the ship.”

  The sub-lieutenant nodded, recalling an unusual event a few months earlier that had brought Commanders Myers and Dieffenbach to the gunroom and Harry’s cabin. There’d been some talk of a reaction to the intensive education, and of some alien being appearing to the Captain and to Harry. “You mean that business with something accessing the AI and trying to trace you?”

  Remembering the secrecy imposed, Harry hesitated. “I don’t know why, but yes, something tried to speak to me. It told me something only the Captain knew at the time.” Swallowing, he continued. “Now it’s happened again, only this time the visitor warned me that we are in danger here.”

  Trelawney frowned. “Slow down, Harry. How did you get this information?”

  “It’s difficult to explain, sir, but I think the Siddhiche take possession of me, and I have a sort of dream. This time, I saw people in uniforms attacking us and taking us to some sort of hospital. I think it is a warning, but I don’t know who the enemy is. I think the Siddhiche know, but they don’t know how to tell us.”

  Harry paused, and the sub-lieutenant noticed a sort of blue glow surrounding him.

  When he spoke again, Harry’s voice had an apocryphal quality, and it seemed as if someone was speaking through him. “They are allied to the former rulers. They seek to seize this one and his companions. They expect relief soon—their friends come in ships like yours. We have warned your commander of this.”

  Surprised and more than a little puzzled, the sub-lieutenant hesitated. Before Trelawney could form a cohesive response, Harry’s eyes glazed over and he slumped in his chair then slid to the floor.

  “Harry?” Trelawney said in alarm. Kneeling, he checked the boy was still breathing, relieved to find he was apparently asleep. Snatching up his surface-to-ship link, he put in a call to the Commodore’s office. In a very few sentences he conveyed to his commanding officer exactly what had just transpired.

  The Commodore took this news seriously, despite the bizarre way it had been delivered. “Get your people to the nearest Royal Marine barracks immediately,” he said to Trelawney. “As soon as you have them there, Brigadier Kernan’s men will ensure their safety. There’s a barracks a half kilometre from your location. Get your men there now, and report to me as soon as you have done so.”

  “Will do, sir,” said Trelawney.

  “And remember, don’t do anything to attract attention. I suspect you are already under surveillance. I’ll alert the Marines and despatch them to meet you. Don’t wait for them, and don’t waste a moment.”

  “Very good, sir.” Sub-Lieutenant Trelawney broke the link as Harry stood to his feet, looking confused and feeling woozy.

  Trelawney steered him to a chair.

  “Harry, you seem to have stirred a right old hornet’s nest this time. Sit here while I dress. Don’t go anywhere.”

  “I’m sorry, sir. What happened? I recall coming in to tell you about the enemy—but then something else took over.” He rubbed his temples. “My head hurts. I’m really sorry, sir.”

  “No trouble, Harry. It’s a good thing you came to see me. We have to move quickly. The Captain—I mean Commodore—was quite definite on that score.” He grabbed his belongings and said, “Follow me and stay close. We have to get the others roused and ready, and we have to do it without raising the house.”

  It took only minutes for them to rouse their companions and get them ready to move. Danny proved to be the easiest, as he was already, for some inscrutable reason, sat on the end of his bed, wide eyed and fully dressed. Harry had no time to ask what had compelled him to do so. Ushering him into the corridor they met the others pulling on jackets and securing their weapons belts.

  “Right, lads, dead quiet now.” Trelawney waited until he had their full attention. “We have to get out into the street and get to the Marines without raising any suspicions.”

  “If we split up and go out in pairs, it’ll be less obvious,” Paddy Murphy suggested, keeping his voice low. “There are three routes, and if we all go different ways, there’s less chance we’ll be noticed.”

  “Good thinking. You and Heron go out the poolside way. Dinsen, you and O’Connor go through the main lobby. Danny, you’re with me. Let’s go.”

  Paddy Murphy sauntered off toward the pool patio—a reasonable move as there was a breakfast bar set up at one end where the group had eaten several times. This early in the day, few people were there apart from hotel staff, but Harry had an uneasy feeling about this, especially as he did not recognise several of the staff.

  They had almost reached the street exit when Katerina de Vries strode through the door as it slid open.

  “Good morning, gentlemen.” She smiled, sketching a salute. “Going for a walk this early?”

  “Morning, MT.” Paddy returned the salute properly. “Just a quick errand to the barracks for the Sub, then we can get some breakfast. Work before pleasure and all that.”

  “Really?” She smiled broadly. “I was just going that way. Perhaps I can go with you.”

  “You’re certainly welcome to,” Paddy said, “but we’re on business, not out for a jog.” He glanced a
ppreciatively at the tight-fitting jogging capris and top she had chosen with obvious care for her appearance, no matter how early the hour.

  “No problem. I’m in no hurry.” She struck a pose that showed off her curves to their best advantage, and noted with pleasure their reaction.

  Before she put one hand on her hip, Harry caught what he thought was a quick signal to one of the waiters, but he could see nothing alarming in the man’s response as he followed Paddy onto the street with Katerina walking between them, chatting and laughing.

  On the other side of her, Paddy’s cheerfulness was covering his annoyance that he couldn’t see any sign of the other members of their team. Just as he was about to shoot a questioning glance to Harry about this, he saw Trelawney and Danny emerge from a side street on the other side of the road. Trelawney caught sight of them and signalled for them to run for it.

  Even as the two midshipmen responded, camouflage clad figures burst from the roadside shrubbery and from several hiding places ahead of Paddy and Harry. Before he could react and draw the weapon he had so recently learned to use, Harry felt something sharp penetrate his upper arm, and turning, he saw Katerina withdrawing a syringe.

  She grinned as his knees buckled. “That’s right, kid. Give in to it, you little lab rat. You know you want to.”

  Chapter 25

  Mind Meld

  HARRY DRIFTED IN AND OUT OF CONSCIOUSNESS, confused and disoriented. Later he would recall being handled roughly and then transported and restrained, but eventually he awoke to find himself strapped to some sort of padded surface. His body ached, and he could feel several small wounds on his abdomen and chest.

  Anger drove him to struggle against the restraints, but he could not free himself. Exhausted by the effort, he took stock of his surroundings. The small room lacked windows and was lit by rows of bright lights directly above him. The only opening he was able to see was a ventilation grille to one side of the lighting.

  Putting all his effort into it, he bawled, “Let me out of here!” When there was no response, he tried again. He repeated the shout until at last he heard a door opening, and a large man entered.

  Looming into Harry’s limited range of vision, he snarled, “Shut up or I’ll give you another dose to shut you up.”

  “How dare you do this to me?” Harry exclaimed. “I demand you release me immediately. I am a Midshipman in the Confederate Fleet, not some crofter you can treat as you please.”

  “I said shut up,” snapped the man. “You’re just a bloody specimen now. I don’t care if we carve you up alive or dead, conscious or unconscious. Now keep quiet, or I’ll knock you out until we’re ready to take you apart.”

  “You wouldn’t dare,” snapped Harry, renewing his effort to free himself. He felt the sharp jab of a needle. As the darkness engulfed him, he had no idea that his friends had heard him from their own cells farther down the corridor.

  Katerina de Vries assisted in the preparation of the laboratory in which they planned to test a number of drugs on Harry. Now officially a deserter, she laughed at the sight of the hapless teenager who’d been so convinced she was attracted to him. The money she’d been paid for her part in this operation was triple what she’d earned in the Fleet, and she needed to maximise this opportunity to avoid being caught and charged with treason.

  The odious man looked at Harry and emitted a grunt that passed for a snort of laughter. “He’ll be far less troublesome once we’ve finished the next series of trials. We’ve enough tissue and cell samples to harvest his genes, and we’ve got the other two in reserve.”

  “The mind control drug will at least make him controllable,” said Katerina, “and if it is successful on him, it will be a simple job to take what we want from the others.”

  “Yes. It has no effect on the DNA or the RNA, so it simplifies everything.” The senior researcher paused. “Of course, it leaves the subject incapable of independent thought and action, but that doesn’t affect our use of him.” He finished stowing the samples they’d collected earlier. “Dr Johnstone was right—we’ve an absolute gold mine with this boy and the others.”

  “SIR, ACCORDING TO OUR PATROLS, Sub-Lieutenant Trelawney and his men failed to meet up. There are indications they may have been abducted.”

  A cold hand clutched the Commodore’s heart. He took a moment to compose himself. “What indications do you have?”

  “Several of the hotel staff members are gone, and several more tried to hold off our men. Three vehicles were seen leaving as the men approached, and a torn piece of O’Connor’s jacket was found just a few metres from the hotel.”

  “So they must have put up a fight. Any witnesses?”

  “One, sir, another guest—he happened to look out of his window when he heard a commotion early in the morning, and he saw a team of armed people in camo gear surrounding the sub-lieutenant and a small boy. He thinks there was at least one other group of men as well, possibly two.”

  “Any weapons fire?”

  “Negative, but there is something else, sir. We recovered a box of tranquilizers and hypodermic needles opposite to where the sub-lieutenant was taken, and signs of another struggle there.”

  His anger slowly building, the Commodore asked, his voice carrying an edge of ice, “Have you checked the register at the hotel?”

  “Yes, sir. Master Warrant Dupré and MedTech de Vries were registered along with four others. The MW and de Vries have gone.”

  “MedTech de Vries was one of those on the security watch list. Why was she not being shadowed?”

  “She was, sir. Two of the security detail were in the hotel, but someone managed to neutralise both of them. She and the MW are nowhere to be seen. Their uniforms are gone, and a couple of Fleet-issue items are missing.”

  “You may consider them deserters. De Vries had several associates, and most of them were on planet leave and supposed to be under surveillance. I’ll forward the names and details. They’re to be arrested immediately.”

  Summoning his SSU, he ordered, “Adriana, send the files on our saboteurs to Captain Winterman. Captain, you’ll have the files in a few seconds. I’ll copy them to the Brigadier.”

  Waiting until he had confirmation of the receipt of the files, he cut the link then contacted Commander Dieffenbach. “Fritz, Sub-Lieutenant Trelawney and his men have been seized on the surface. We must rescue them as quickly as possible. Activate the trace on their links, please.” The Commodore waited. Within minutes, Fritz replied, “Sir, we are unable to trace them.”

  The Commodore’s frown deepened. “Could they have been killed? I thought the trace worked even in that eventuality.”

  “There may be a simple explanation,” Fritz explained. “They are probably being held in an area that is protected by an anti-scanning screen. That would prevent us reading the homing signal.”

  His face betraying his anger, the Commodore said, “Or they have been taken somewhere with no contact to an AI network.” His fingers drummed the tabletop. “Three of our crew have vanished with them. MWO Dupre, MedTech de Vries and TechRate Gordon went planet-side at the same time as Trelawney’s group. I want them all found. Dupre attempted to sabotage the primary particle beam projector. If we’d fired it before discovering what he had done to it, we’d probably have destroyed ourselves.”

  “I’ve teams out searching,” the Brigadier announced, joining the conference call, his face a picture of concern in the holographic image. “We’re doing aerial surveillance. So far, we’ve tracked the route used by the abductors, and captured the vehicles. We took several prisoners and found another submarine harbour designed to handle several submersible vessels in an ore mine, which is shown on the official maps as being depleted, but it isn’t. It is producing a hell of a lot of very high grade ore. Even more interesting is the workforce.”

  “We suspected something like that was happening. I take it the workforce is the supposedly alien abductees.”

  “No,
that’s the interesting part—they are the reptilian species, or should I say more accurately, the saurian species the Siddhiche told us to look for. I want to get the science team on it, particularly the linguistics experts and the xeno-biologists. I could use some help communicating with these saurians. They’re intelligent and speak a language, but our translators are unfamiliar with it.”

  “Good idea,” said the Commodore. “I’ll get Dr Grüneland to sort that out immediately. Perhaps the saurians you’ve freed or the prisoners you’ve taken can shed some light on the whereabouts of the sub-lieutenant and his men.”

  “Unfortunately, I don’t think we’ll get much from either group. The guards we’ve taken prisoner at these and other facilities know very little about the submersibles, and the saurians weren’t in a position to know. I wondered if an IR scan of the seas might pick up a trail if they haven’t gone to ground already.”

  “We’ll do a scan and let you know.” Swallowing his frustration, the Commodore focussed on business. “I have some more intel. Several ships of unknown class and force are due here in roughly eighteen days—or so we’ve been led to believe from these cryptic messages the Siddhiche have given us, and what we’re able to deduce from the former governor. I plan to leave Sydney in close orbit and take Bellerophon and Vanguard out to a holding position so that we are in place to strike if they prove hostile. I’ll leave the atmospheric squadrons under your command, and we’ll land extra troops from Sydney for you. Your main task for now will be to track down and isolate, neutralise or capture any of the former regime’s people. It may become a bit of a guerrilla campaign, but I know your people can deal with that. As soon as we have the situation stabilised aloft, we’ll be back.”

  “Clear and understood. We have this end in hand. Just make sure you bag the bastards coming your way,” growled the acting Brigadier. “I don’t particularly want to spend the rest of my natural life sat on this dirt pile—it’s far too bloody volcanic for my taste.”

 

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