Wizard Defender (Intergalactic Wizard Scout Chronicles Book 8)

by Rodney Hartman

  _______________________________________

  The fifteen people in the conference room grew quiet as the acting president of the Conglomerate finished reading the names of the latest members that were missing.

  A pot-bellied, gray-haired man with bloodshot eyes stood. “If Councilmembers Thoris and Minist couldn’t protect themselves, what are the rest of us supposed to do?”

  A thin woman in her thirties took a large gulp from a half-full glass of light-brown liquid. She tried to rise but fell back into her seat. “The empress promised us protection,” she said, slurring the words. “Why aren’t our wizard scouts out hunting down these assassins?”

  “Here, here,” added an older, bald man. “I wasn’t involved in the empress’s plan to betray the Empire. Now I’m apparently being hunted down by death squads mounted on horses that walk through walls. Our wizard scouts need to be doing more to protect us!”

  The acting president eyed a nearby glass of the same brownish liquid that was in the thin woman’s glass. He was tempted to chug down an entire decanter of the potent liquor and be done with the whole affair. I didn’t want any part of this in the first place, he thought. I’m a merchant, not a politician.

  Steeling himself to ignore the liquor glass, the acting president stood. It had been a long night, and he was growing more tired by the minute. “The empress is dead. So is the chief of security.”

  “Rumors,” said the thin woman. “No one knows for sure.”

  “That’s no longer true,” said the acting president. “The bodies of the empress and Wizard Scout Myers were brought to Risors earlier this morning. DNA testing has confirmed the identities of the bodies. The empress is dead.”

  “Who brought the bodies?” asked the pot-bellied man. “The last report we had was that she’d been kidnapped by some demon-cat or whatever it was.”

  “The empress was taken to the magic dimension where she was killed on a planet called Portalis,” said the acting president.

  “So, Wizard Scout Shepard murdered the empress,” said the pot-bellied man. “Did he kill his brother as well?”

  “The killer wasn’t Shepard,” said the acting president. “We have an eyewitness.”

  The thin woman took another drink from her glass. “Who?”

  “The same person who brought her body to us,” replied the acting president. “That person is none other than her son, Matthew Deloris. He saw the whole thing.”

  The bald man whispered into the ear of the pot-bellied man sitting next to him. The pot-bellied man nodded before standing back up and facing the acting president.

  “I assume you’ve placed the empress’s son under arrest. Perhaps we can use him as leverage against that rogue wizard scout. It’s about time we stopped letting traitors kill our Conglomerate staff with impunity. We should—”

  “No,” said the acting president surprising even himself with the strength of his denial. “We will not act against the empress’s son.” He glanced around the room, paying particular attention to the increasingly red face of the pot-bellied man. “We have been given an opportunity to get out of the mess the empress left us.” He pointed at the bald man. “As you said, we were not involved with the empress’s betrayal. Thoris and Minist were her main backers along with Jenkins.”

  “Jenkins is dead,” said the bald man. “Thoris and Minist probably are as well.”

  The acting president shook his head. “They aren’t. Felix Deloris said they are being held on Diajor, awaiting trial as traitors by an Empire military tribunal.”

  “We are the Empire,” said the pot-bellied man. “I haven’t approved any such tribunal.”

  The bald man looked at his pot-bellied counterpart. “The empress’s betrayal of the Empire regular forces failed. The majority of the Empire’s fleet along with a large force of ground troops escaped. The Trecorian alliance has cast their lot on the side of the surviving Empire rebel forces. You’ve all been briefed on the part that ships from the magic dimension played in the fight. No Conglomerate warships fought in the battle against the Empire fleets. Only the empress and her fellow traitors took action against the Empire.” The bald man glanced around the table. “We are business people, not warriors or politicians.” He locked eyes with the pot-bellied man. “Are you sure you want to align yourself with those who decided to betray the Empire?”

  The pot-bellied man glanced at the bald man before turning to address the acting president. “Naturally, I had nothing to do with the empress’s plans. I, uh, only want what’s best for the Conglomerate and, uh, the Empire, from a business standpoint.”

  “I have no doubt,” the acting president replied. He eyed his glass of brownish liquid and pushed it away. “I have taken the liberty of asking Felix and Matthew Deloris to attend our meeting. They are waiting outside. That is, if there are no objections.”

  After five seconds of silence, the acting president nodded at a guard standing next to the conference room entrance. When the guard opened the door, Matthew Deloris and his uncle, Felix Deloris, walked inside. The acting president motioned at the head of the table where the empress normally sat. Instead of moving to the head, Felix Deloris sat down in a chair on the side of the table. Matthew Deloris walked to the chair at the head of the table but didn’t sit down.

  “My mother is dead,” said Matthew wasting no time on preliminaries. “We can go into details later. There will be no state funeral. Both my mother and…my father will be disintegrated in a quiet ceremony later today. In the meantime, we have important work to do.” He pulled a folded piece of paper from his pocket and stared at it.

  The pot-bellied man began growing red in the face again. He glared at Matthew before turning to look at Felix. “I will not be told what will be done by some young popinjay. If you have something to offer us, say it and be done with it. I’ve got a few ideas of my own I’d like to discuss with the board before—”

  A crumpled ball of paper flew through the air, hitting the pot-bellied man on the chest. The paper landed on the table in front of the man.

  “Read that,” said Matthew.

  The pot-bellied man’s face turned beet red. “You arrogant—”

  Felix Deloris stood and spoke in a surprisingly stern voice. “I’d suggest you read that before you say anything else. The paper contains a list of names. You’ll notice the first ten names are marked off the list.” Felix smiled at the pot-bellied man. “If you look close, I believe you’ll notice that your name is number eleven on the list.”

  The pot-bellied man glanced down at the paper before jumping to his feet. “I could have you both shot.”

  “Yes, you could,” said Matthew from his position at the head of the table. “If you did, our deaths would be quick. I can assure you that yours would not.” He glanced around the table. “Each of you has a choice. I’m not going to mince words. The Conglomerate can either come back to the Empire’s fold in a peaceful manner, or everyone on that list will live to regret it. Regardless of what you do, the Conglomerate will return to the Empire. It would be better if the return was voluntary, but it’s going to happen nonetheless. To that end, I am taking charge of the Conglomerate. You can either join me in an endeavor that will prove very profitable for all of you, or you can fight me and share the fate of Jenkins and his cronies. Either way, the Conglomerate will once again be part of the Empire.”

  The pot-bellied man opened his mouth to speak, but the acting president spoke first. “What do you mean by profitable?”

  Felix Deloris sat back down. “What my nephew means is that the Conglomerate stands in a unique position if the board is ready to seize the greatest business opportunity our galaxy has ever seen.”

  “What are you talking about?” asked the bald-headed man. “What business opportunity?”

  Matthew Deloris placed a small, metallic pad on the conference room table. A beam of light shot upward to display an image of a galaxy.

  “Very pretty,” said the bald man. “I’ve seen holograms before
. What’s your point?”

  Matthew smiled. “My point is that you haven’t seen this before. This isn’t a hologram, and the image isn’t being generated by technology. The pad contains a magic spell that projects the image.” Pointing at the pad, Matthew said, “These can be made for half the cost of a holographic projector, and the image is every bit as good. From my experience, I’ve found that some things can be done cheaper or better using magic, while in other cases, technology is the better choice of the two.”

  “Magic?” asked the bald man.

  Matthew nodded, then raised his hand to indicate the image. “This isn’t our galaxy. It is our sister galaxy in the magic dimension. In that galaxy are trillions of potential customers who depend on magic to do everything. Once this war is over, our galaxy’s technology will be in high demand there, as will their magic items in ours.” Reaching down, Matthew touched a protrusion on the metallic pad.

  The image changed from a galaxy to a legal form.

  The acting president leaned forward. “What is that?”

  Matthew smiled. “That is a trade agreement between the Conglomerate and the United Galaxy Alliance in the magic dimension. It makes our Conglomerate the primary suppliers of technology to the magic galaxy and the main subsidiary for the sale of magic items in our physical galaxy. You’ll notice the contract has been signed by Uncle Felix and I as authorized representatives of the Conglomerate.”

  The pot-bellied man tore his gaze away from the contract to look at the wrinkled piece of paper in his hand. He glanced at Felix Deloris before looking back at Matthew.

  “Just what are we expected to do for this err…consideration?” asked the pot-bellied man.

  “Nothing more than loyal citizens of the Empire would naturally want to do,” said Matthew. “The Conglomerate will place our military at the disposal of the Empire’s High Command. I think you’ll find most of our commanders will be more than willing to do so. They were just as shocked by my mother’s betrayal as I’m sure most of you were. We will also send a delegation to the magic dimension to begin coordinating the trade agreement.”

  The acting president pushed his glass of brownish liquid farther away. “Our navy is positioned to begin attacks on the Empire forces in order to begin taking back the rebel districts. There have already been skirmishes. Even if we try to stand down our military, who’s to say the rebels and their allies will allow us to do so?”

  “Let me worry about that,” said Matthew. “In the meantime, we’ll send orders to our fleet commanders to withdraw to defensive positions and attempt to make contact with their counterparts in the Empire fleets. This civil war should never have happened. It’s going to stop now. It has to stop now.” Matthew glanced around the room, making contact with everyone before saying, “There is no profit in it.”

  The acting president took a last look at his glass of liquor before picking it up and dropping it into the trash disposal slot on the table. “I make a motion that Matthew Deloris be elected as interim president of the Conglomerate until our full council can be assembled to discuss electing a permanent leader.”

  “I second the motion,” said Felix Deloris.

  One by one the council members at the table nodded their heads. The last to vote was the pot-bellied man. He glanced down at the wrinkled paper in his hand, then looked up and nodded his head.

  “All right,” said Matthew Deloris. “Then let’s get down to business.”

  Chapter 7 – Trinity

  _________________

  A streak of light in the sky announced the arrival of another Crosioian troop transport. It came to a hover fifty meters over Estos’ frozen landscape, directly above the POW camp Wizard Scout Trinity Delgado had been observing for the last thirty minutes. From the smaller size of the starship, Trinity could tell it was one of the battalion-size troopships and not one of the frontline divisional assault craft. Although not the largest of the bats’ transports, there was still an obvious problem in Trinity’s mind.

  “My passive scan’s picking up less than fifty life forms inside,” Trinity said in the space of her mind shared with her battle computer.

  “I calculate the Crosioians are using it for something other than transporting personnel,” replied Jennifer.

  Doors slid open on the sides and rear of the troopship and dozens of truck-sized cargo containers spilled out, falling to the tundra below. At least a dozen of the crates cracked open on impact. The broken boxes spewed cartons of food and other supplies into the air. A spray of plasma rounds erupted from one of the three bottom gun ports, hitting ten meters in front of a group of unarmed POWs who were apparently getting too close for the Crosioians’ liking.

  Trinity increased the magnification of her helmet’s visor until she could make out the supplies littering the landscape. “It looks like the ship’s dropping food, cold weather clothing, and medical supplies to the POWs. From the actions of the prisoners, I’d say this isn’t the first supply drop. What gives? The bats should’ve taken our troops off the planet by now, to the gulags near their home worlds. After all the nukes that were set off during the battle for Estos, the radiation is deadly even in relatively clean spots like the one below this ridgeline.”

  “If the situation was reversed, I calculate the Empire would be doing as you say,” said Jennifer. “Unfortunately for the POWs, the Crosioians are not like your species. Based upon what you have seen over the last two days, I calculate they are bringing more POWs to Estos instead of the other way around. That makes no logical sense, but the parameters of the equation are what they are.”

  “Unless they are assembling them all here to die,” Trinity said. “I wonder if they are bringing all two hundred million of our captured troops to Estos.” The heartlessness of such a plan went against everything she’d been taught to value during her career as a wizard scout. “How long can the POWs last on Estos?”

  “Assuming the Crosioians continue to resupply our troops with food and medicines, they might last two months before the radiation in the clean areas starts to take its toll,” said Jennifer. “Do not hold me to that. I have limited data to base my calculations on. Your helmet’s video is picking up some anti-radiation pills in the crates that broke open. My calculations are based upon the Crosioians providing enough of the pills for all the prisoners.”

  The situation confused Trinity. “If the Crosioians want to kill their prisoners, all they have to do is leave them on Estos and make sure no ships land to take them off. It looks like they’re intentionally trying to keep them alive and bringing more POWs to share their fate. Why resupply them if they are going to die in two months anyway?”

  “Insufficient data to calculate the Crosioians’ motives, Wizard Scout,” replied Jennifer.

  All three bottom gun turrets on the troopship opened up, firing more warning shots at some of the increasingly desperate POWs trying to get closer to the supplies. Trinity made out a score of Empire officers and sergeants trying to hold the prisoners back with only limited success.

  “I calculate the discipline among our soldiers is beginning to deteriorate,” said Jennifer. “If their commander is not careful, these food drops may turn into a free-for-all.”

  “Can you blame our troops?” Trinity asked, thinking of the masses of captured soldiers crammed into the thousands of poorly provisioned camps spread out over Estos. “A hundred million POWs are scattered around the planet in zones where the radioactive contamination is less but still deadly.”

  “As I told you earlier, I calculate the Crosioians are bringing all two hundred million prisoners here,” said Jennifer. “I am surprised the bats are keeping them alive in the first place. Based upon information in my databanks, the Crosioians consider surrender an act of cowardice. They normally kill their prisoners outright, except for the unlucky ones who might have information the Crosioians need. My calculations indicate the Crosioians must have a reason for keeping our troops alive, even if only for two months.”

  Trinity took
another survey of the POW encampment below the ridgeline. There were over ten thousand POWs bunched into a few hundred tents that had apparently been provided by the Crosioians. She sensed small energy sources coming from a lot of the tents.

  “Heating units,” said Jennifer. “The Crosioians must have provided the tents and heaters when they initially captured and disarmed our troops. My sensors are not picking up any weapons among the POWs.”

  Trinity nodded her head. The Crosioians were nothing if not thorough. They’d obviously disarmed the survivors before herding them into the small camps. She had no doubt a lot of the soldiers still had some fight left in them, but she wasn’t sure how long that would last. The cold was a terrible enemy.

  “Very true,” said Jennifer. “If I was one of the Crosioians’ tactical computers, I would have recommended letting the cold convince the Empire troops to trade weapons for tents and heaters. I calculate that would have been effective against seventy percent of the soldiers. It would have been more effective than trying to take all the weapons by force.”

  “What about the other thirty percent?” Trinity asked knowing the answer already.

  “I calculate a few tactical nukes from orbiting warships would have convinced the others to surrender. It would only be logical.”

  Sometimes Trinity hated her battle computer’s cold logic. Low-crawling another three meters forward, she moved to a semi-covered position for a better view of the encampment.

  “Be careful,” warned Jennifer. “Your stealth shield is good, as is your battle suit’s camouflage unit, but they are not infallible. Your orders were to teleport from Velos to Estos and pinpoint the locations of any remaining Empire troops. You have remained undetected over the last two days, but I calculate your luck will eventually run out given enough time. I recommend that you request teleport extraction so you can make your report to Admiral Bistos. The Crosioian warships orbiting the planet make sending messages over the tele-network too risky. You will need to make your report in person.”