The Mountains of Montora (The Chronicles of Montora Book 1)

by Ward Wagher

“Yes, Sir. You will need to fill out form 5G-709. Note that there are two sides to the document.”

  Frank slid a piece of paper onto the counter. “As it happens, I have already completed the document.”

  “Oh very good, Sir.” Marprelate picked up the form and started to read. His eyebrows shot up.

  “Uh… well, Sir… this looks to be in order.” The Registrar paused for a long moment. “There will be a seven day waiting period for the documentation to clear.” The words came out in a rush.

  “My understanding is that with proper identification we should be able to do this on the spot,” Nyman said. “What seems to be the problem?”

  “Oh no, Sir. duke’s rules. It’s to avoid fraud. Yes, Sir. We have to be very careful about these things.”

  “Excuse me,” Daphne stepped up to the counter and looked at the name plate, “… Martin. I am Lieutenant Locke of the Navy.” She continued in an official voice. “You are aware of course, the duke signed the Charter of Interstellar Guarantee as a condition of assuming his title and lands?”

  “Uh… I wouldn’t know about that, Miss. All I know are the rules here.”

  “Well the rules here are to give full faith and credit to financial and estate transactions on any world under the Naval Protectorate. The Merchants League insists upon it. If the paperwork is in order, you are obliged to release probate.”

  “Yes Ma’am. Well then, that is why we have the seven day rule. We must review to make sure the paperwork is in order.”

  “Mister Marprelate. I used to work in the Navy Judge Advocate General’s office. I completed that document in your hands myself. It is not that complex. I suggest you take a few moments to validate it and then we can be own our way.” The last phrase came out with a crack.

  “Yes Ma’am. I can review it, however my system is down and they told me it would be some time before it was back.”

  “Your system is not down. I can see it from here. I do not know why you are attempting to delay this, but be assured I will haul you before the Navy Legate if that is what is needed to straighten things out. And while you may play your little games in this office, I assure you that you do not want to screw around with the Navy.”

  Marprelate’s face went pale. A clerk sat at her desk behind the counter and stared at them with large, round eyes.

  “Um… yes… um, this seems to be in order.” He typed an entry into his terminal. “Yes… um… okay. Let me clear probate here and then you can be on your way.”

  He typed some more and waited while a round, gold seal popped out of a device on the counter. “Here you go.”

  “Not quite!” Daphne said. “It’s not legal until you emboss the seal onto the paper and sign it.”

  “Oh, it’s quite all right,” he said. “You are good to go.”

  “Mister Marprelate. I do not make idle threats. The chip in the seal does not activate until you emboss it on the paper.”

  The scowl on the Registrar’s face was the indication he did not want to call Daphne’s bluff. He pulled the document back, attached the seal and embossed it almost violently. “Here you go. I believe we are done here.”

  “Yes, we are.” Daphne leaned across the counter so that they were within about three inches of touching noses. “I do not believe you would want me to come back for another visit, would you?”

  “No Ma’am!”

  Back in the hallway Frank wiped his forehead. “Wow. Remind me never to get on your bad side, Daphne. Were you once a Drill Instructor or something?”

  “No. But those self-important little bureaucrats bring out the worst in me. I just wanted to squash him.”

  Wendy patted her on the back. “Good job, Daphne. I can see why the commander values you so.”

  After the Probate office, their next experience was anticlimactic. The clerk at the Register of Mesne Conveyance ran a reader over the seal on the probate release document and completed the paperwork to transfer the title and deed to Montora to Frank Nyman.

  The clerk leaned over the counter and spoke softly to Frank. “I was very sorry to learn about your relative’s death. A lot of people here really liked him. Please be careful, Sir.”

  Chapter Five

  When the three were about midway across the esplanade, they saw four men in uniform leave the castle and begin a march to the courthouse.

  “What do you want to bet our friend Mr. Marprelate decided to whistle up some help from the duke?” Frank said.

  “No bets, Frank,” Wendy said.

  “I suggest we not look as though we are in a hurry,” Daphne said. “But, I also don’t think we want to hang around the parking garage. There is only one way in or out.”

  As they walked up the stairs Frank said, “Tell me once again why you chose to park on the third level. There has got to be only a handful of cars in the garage.”

  “I didn’t want somebody wandering through to spot the car.”

  “I thought it was anonymous.”

  “You never know,” Daphne said.

  As they walked into the stairwell they saw the soldiers enter the courthouse. By the time they reached the third level they saw the soldiers leave the courthouse and begin a march towards the car park.

  “Uh oh,” Frank said. “As soon as we get out of sight of the stairwell, I think we should not waste any time getting back to the car. How are your driving skills, Daphne?”

  “I can hold my own, Sir.”

  “You may have to.”

  They reached the third floor and walked away from the stairwell. Frank kept glancing behind to watch for when they were out of sight. “Okay, go!”

  They ran hard to the car. Frank jumped into the front seat next to Daphne and Wendy dove into the back seat. Daphne backed the car out with a screech.

  “Can you get to the exit before they get there?” Frank asked.

  “We’ll give it our best shot, Sir.”

  “Wendy, get on the comm and call Hai. Tell him we’re compromised. Daphne, as soon as you can get away from here and lose them, slow to a normal speed. If they catch up with us, we’ll stop. We haven’t done anything illegal. I just don’t want to meet the duke yet. And try not to hit anybody.”

  “Right,” Daphne said.

  As they wound their way down the parking structure Wendy worked her hand held comm.

  “Commander Ciera is at the Fixed Base Operator at the starport,” Wendy said. There’s a shuttle chartered for us and ready to go whenever we arrive. Daphne, you are to go with us.”

  “He can’t do that,” Daphne said. “I have things to do here in Cambridge.”

  “Apparently he can,” Frank said. “He needs to go to ground and you can be a help to us up at Montora.”

  “When I catch up with him again, I’ll fix his wagon,” she muttered as she sawed at the steering wheel.

  “Just keep those happy thoughts in mind,” Frank said.

  When they came to the exit, Daphne ripped out into the traffic and accelerated hard. Wendy watched out the back window. Daphne took the first corner to the right.

  “They were just coming around the corner of the building when we made the turn. I’m pretty sure they didn’t make us,” Wendy said.

  “Ease off, then Daphne,” Frank said. “We can go on to the starport.”

  After a couple of turns, Daphne maneuvered the groundcar on to another of the broad boulevards, this one heading towards the starport.

  “Not a lot of traffic in this town,” Frank said.

  “Not a lot of money floating around for transportation,” Daphne said. “Petrol is very expensive as well. Electrics like this one are a lot more expensive up front, but hydrogen for the fuel cell is not quite so dear.”

  “Range is a little light, though,” Frank said. “And considering the lack of traffic, I cannot understand somebody putting up a parking structure like that.”

  “Think about it, Frank,” Wendy said. “The original duke was planning for a lot of tourists. He probably envisioned parking lots
full of rental vehicles at the starport.”

  “That makes sense, I guess.”

  “Speaking of the lack of range,” Daphne said, “there is not enough road to make going cross country practical. You either fly or go horseback. Taking even an all-terrain out of the city is a rugged experience. This thing has all the range we need.”

  “The road doesn’t go very far, then?”

  “No, remember we are driving through a theme park. Other than the trans-Ducat highway, the roads just end at the city limits.”

  “Highway?” Frank asked.

  “Such as it is. It is unpaved and rough going.”

  “Strange place,” Wendy said.

  Smith was waiting at the starport when they arrived. “Leave the car in the park here,” he said. “The commander will send someone for it.”

  “I thought he was here.”

  “He was. After your call, he slipped back into town. Something about checking the back-trail before it got cold.”

  “Jones is with the shuttle?” Frank asked.

  “Yes, Sir. Once we negotiated the rental, I didn’t want to leave it. Jones is checking it out.”

  “Smart thinking. We may have stirred up some problems at the courthouse. Hopefully no one called ahead.”

  The sergeant looked sharply at Frank. “What kind of problems, Skipper? Is there a threat index?”

  “I don’t think so, Sarge. But Ciera is nervous as a cat and he is usually not that way. I think you and Jones need to stay alert.”

  “Will do, Sir. It has been very quiet here. We have stowed the luggage. In fact, we can board whenever you desire.”

  Frank looked around at Wendy and Daphne. “Any other business to take care of before we lift?”

  “I need to kill the commander,” Daphne said.

  “I’m sure you will have opportunities later, Lieutenant,” Frank said.

  Smith managed keep his grin unnoticed as the group walked to the waiting shuttle.

  “I thought you two were piloting,” Frank said.

  Smith shook his head. “The FBO insisted on having their pilots fly, so they can get the bird back here today.”

  “A wise choice for a lot of reasons,” Daphne said.

  “Are they okay?” Frank said, ignoring Daphne.

  The commander vouched for the FBO. I spoke with the pilots a bit. I think we are fine, Sir. These two have a lot of experience.”

  “Okay, Sarge. If you’re happy, I’m happy.”

  “I didn’t say I was happy, Sir. But I think the risk is low.”

  Frank stared at Smith for a long moment. “I want you two in the front row and keeping an eye on them, then.”

  “Of course, Skipper.”

  The shuttle was an older luxury model. It was clean and in good repair, but showed the patina of years of service. Frank and Wendy slid into the second row of seats. Daphne was across the aisle.

  Jones reached for the door controls. “If you will allow me, Sir,” one of the pilots said. “The boss is very by the book and insists we take care of these things.” He hit the button to power the door closed and then carefully checked the telltales to make sure it was secured.

  “We would ask you keep your seat harnesses connected during the entire trip,” the pilot continued. “This will be short hop and we will be on the ground again in about thirty minutes. Any questions?”

  When no one spoke he nodded and then turned to the cockpit. The other pilot was already working his way through the check list as the first strapped himself in.

  “It looks like they are using a paper checklist,” Wendy commented quietly to Frank.

  “Be thankful they are using something,” he said. “The level of automation is much lower out here.”

  As the pilots worked through the checklist, interior lights blinked on, then came the whoosh of the environmental plant. After another couple of minutes, the shuttle lifted off smoothly. Two men sitting in a car in the parking lot watched them leave. The nose came up and the pilot fed power to the drives. They accelerated strongly and climbed out over the coastal mountains.

  “And we didn’t get to see the beach,” Wendy said.

  “Next time, my dear,” Frank said.

  A digital display on the bulkhead showed the craft leveling out at 15,000 feet. The sunlight shot through the windows and across the interior of the shuttle in prismatic patterns. The drives emitted a low rumble and the air moaned past the craft.

  “Quiet ride,” Wendy commented.

  “Nice bird, if a bit old,” Smith said. “Similar to the colonel’s personal shuttle.”

  “So Otto finally broke down and got himself an ‘executive transport,’” Frank grinned as he made quote marks with his fingers.

  “Actually, it was booty,” Smith said. “Il Presidente on Danica claimed not to have funds to pay us completely after we hauled his chestnuts out of the fire a few years ago. The colonel settled up by acquiring some decent equipment. Presidente did get to keep his office. He was not in a position to argue.”

  “Next time I see Otto, I will be sure to rag him about this. He was always scared to death of being perceived as taking advantage of his rank.”

  The sergeant leaned back in the seat. “Jonesey and I talked him into keeping it. He was going to sell it.”

  “Very wise,” Frank said. “I expect everyone in the regiment agreed he deserved a comfortable ride.”

  “Yes, Sir. But he got so many compliments on the shuttle he nearly sold it again. Took us a while to talk him out of doing it.”

  “I’m glad to hear that, Sarge. If anyone deserves it, Otto Putin must be…”

  There was a loud bang and a splash of red in the cockpit. The shuttle heeled over on its left side and started descending accompanied by a roar of wind. Masks dropped from the ceiling as the shuttle depressurized.

  Over the noise, Smith could be heard swearing. He and Jones disconnected their harnesses and moved towards the cockpit. Frank pressed a mask over Wendy’s mouth and grabbed one for himself. He then leaned out to see what was happening. There was a confusion of paper flying in the craft. He could see one of the pilots’ arms hanging beside the seat, and catch glimpses of blinking lights on the instrument panel, but everything else was confused. He looked over at Daphne who had her mask on and looked terrified.

  A moment later Jones dragged the remains of a body from the cockpit. Again, it was hard to tell exactly what they were looking at, but the head appeared to be missing. Smith had slipped into the left-hand seat and the shuttle righted itself, but was still descending. Jones dragged the body of the other pilot from the cockpit and laid it next to the first. He then made his way over to where Frank and Wendy were sitting.

  “Sir,” he shouted over the noise, “something passed through the shuttle windows and took out the pilots. We will try to get you down safely.”

  “Carry on, Sarn’t,” Frank shouted back.

  Jones made his way, against the rushing wind, and slipped into the right hand seat. Frank looked out the window on his side and saw mountains close to the craft. Wendy grasped his hand tightly. He glanced at her and was surprised to see her calm. Daphne had her eyes closed and her lips were moving. Praying’s not a bad idea, Frank thought to himself.

  The shuttle eased up to level flight and Frank felt it do the Cayman Watusi, which was a Navy maneuver which allowed the pilots to determine if any other craft were in the blind spot. He heard a squawk from the overhead speaker, but couldn’t discern the words over the noise. When Jones turned to look at them, Frank nodded his head no.

  Jones got out of his seat again and came aft. “Sir, the shuttle seems to be okay other than the apparent damage, but brace yourselves for landing in about five minutes. Once we land, get off as quickly as possible.”

  Frank grinned and gave Jones a thumbs up. He nodded and bent over Daphne to yell at her. She nodded her understanding and Jones went back to the cockpit.

  Frank forced himself to look out the window as they circled over
a mountain meadow. At one end of the meadow was a castle and a village. Halfway up a mountain side was an open, level area with a path to the village. Smith swung the shuttle around and planted it on the ground with a solid bang. Jones crawled back out of the cockpit and hit the button to release the door as the systems spooled down. “Everybody out! Now!”

  Frank and Wendy immediately started disconnecting the belts. Daphne seemed to be struggling with hers. Wendy headed toward the door, but Frank stopped to help Daphne. Smith was immediately at his side. “Sir, I will take care of the Lieutenant. Please exit the craft quickly.”