by Ward Wagher
“Believe it or not, it is my pleasure, Lady.”
“But we still have to deal with our prisoners.”
And that is not something I am looking forward to, he thought.
Mrs. Marsden had set out a plate of cold meats and bread. She seemed offended when Wendy politely refused a full meal. Everyone had been up all day, after having been up all night, and were very tired.
Daphne seemed least affected. She built a sandwich and tore into it. Frank thought she resembled nothing so much as a fastidious mountain lioness.
Frank nibbled on a sandwich while Hai described the results of the interrogations.
“They were clearly working for the duke,” he said. “There were no cutouts. He hired them directly. You could haul him into court on the testimony.”
“In most places,” Frank said.
“There is that. This group was his wet-work team. He sent them out whenever he needed people to disappear. Their last hit here at the keep was an aberration. They left dead bodies and some evidence. It appears this was the first time they made a mistake like that.”
“I’ll bet the duke loved that,” Blakely said.
“I’m surprised they were not more careful this time,” Wendy said.
Hai replied, “The duke told them in no uncertain terms to take you out. He was furious about the way they bungled the previous job. They were under pressure to deliver and quickly. The leader of the team admitted as much.”
“I’m surprised you got that much,” Frank said.
“They are mercenaries. They have no incentive to keep quiet. They are assuming you will honor their contract and let them go with their parole. He said they can be off planet within the hour and won’t come back.”
Frank looked down at his sandwich and pushed the plate away. He said nothing.
Wendy looked back and forth between them. “That’s it. We have a solution, right? We can get them out of here and we have solved the murders.”
Frank continued to look at the table top.
“Frank, what’s the matter? This solves our problem.”
Frank said nothing. Finally Hai spoke. “He cannot let them go, Wendy.”
“What? Why not? You said we could honor the contract.”
“Mercenaries are hired to provide security, or function as armed forces,” Ciera said. “Taking out civilians, even government officials, while operating without an officially declared emergency places them outside of the law.”
“What does that mean?” Wendy asked.
“It means this team is operating illegally; in the worst sort of way,” Ciera said. “The duke promised them good money and safe harbor. They are outside of the law, and they know it too. And this is where it has to stop.”
“We stopped them,” Wendy said. “We get them off planet. We’re done.”
Frank kept staring at the table and shook his head slowly back and forth. “It stops here.”
Hai Ciera nodded with a grimace. “We’ve got to do it, Frank.”
“I know.”
“I can take care of it for you Frank.”
“That makes us no better than them, Hai,” Wendy said.
“A while ago you were agreeing with me,” Frank said.
“No, I wasn’t. I just said things were distasteful.”
“They have to do this, Wendy,” Daphne said.
“No they don’t! You do not understand any better than they do.”
“So how do you want to do this, then?” Hai asked.
“I have to pass sentence. Then we have to execute them. Blakely will record it in the legal records of the margraviate. Then we are done.”
“I cannot believe this,” Wendy said.
“How do you want to execute them?” Hai asked.
“Aren’t you listening to me?” Wendy asked.
“Something quick and painless,” Frank said. “They deserve far worse.”
“This makes you as bad as them,” Wendy said.
Frank turned to Wendy. “What?”
“You aren’t even listening to me!”
“I’m sorry, Sweetheart. I am tired and there is a lot going on.”
“No, you just don’t want to discuss it with me. We’ve been talking about this all day and you just tuned me out.”
“Have you got everything you need, Hai?” Frank asked.
“You’re doing it again,” she cried.
Frank looked back and forth between Wendy and Hai. “I… sorry Wen… I …”
“Frank, take a deep breath and slow down.”
Frank leaned forward in his chair and thumped his elbows on the table. He cradled his head in his hands.
“Frank, Hai; let’s get a good night’s sleep and come at this again tomorrow. Nobody is thinking very clearly.”
“No,” Frank said. “The longer we wait, the greater the risk of blowing the cover. We need to do this today.”
“Frank, you are not listening again.”
Frank stood up again. “Let’s go, Hai.”
Wendy jumped and ran to Frank, grabbing him. “Frank, I can’t let you do this!”
Frank shoved her away. “Stay. Here!” He looked over at Daphne. “Keep her here. Please.”
Frank pointed to Hai and Blakely, and nodded to the door. He spun on his heel and walked from the room. Wendy dropped in the chair and began weeping again.
Lazlo Tonkin sat manacled to the chair in the castle dungeon and waited. He had freely told everything he knew to the slight oriental man who asked the questions. Tonkin believed in playing by the rules. Hiring on with the duke had been a mistake. It was as clear to him as it was to his interrogator. It was only a matter of time before they put him and his people on a shuttle and he could be rid of this planet permanently.
The door to the dungeon opened. Three men walked in. Tonkin saw his oriental interrogator, and recognized the margrave. The third man, he had seen at the castle during his surveillance. The margrave and the third man walked over to the table and sat down behind it. The third man opened a book on the table and uncapped an old fashioned stylus. The oriental man stood next to the table.
“We are here to resolve the legal questions surrounding your assaults upon Castle Montora,” the margrave said.
“Good,” Tonkin said. “The sooner we can clear all this up, the better off we will all be.”
The margrave glanced up at Tonkin and spoke again. “We find you guilty of the murders of the former margrave Jack Nyman and his wife. Also guilty of the murder of Rothman Phillips during the second assault on the castle. You are also guilty of attempted murder of the current margrave and other Montoran citizens.”
Tonkin looked more carefully at the margrave. “I have cooperated with your man here. We just need to get this done.”
“Oh, it is done,” the margrave said. He looked at Hai and nodded. Hai Ciera pulled out the dart pistol and shot Tonkin with a Sleepy-Dart. After a look of surprise, Tonkin’s eyes rolled back in his head and he slumped.
“Okay, Hai,” Frank said with a rusty voice.
Ciera pulled a plastic bag and roll of tape from behind him. He slipped the bag over Tonkin’s head and made several turns of the tape around his neck. The three men watched the bag flutter as Tonkin breathed. After a couple of minutes the breathing stopped.
“Seneschal Montora,” Frank said, “please record the passing of the sentence.”
“Yes, Margrave,” Blakely said.
An hour later they stood before the last prisoner.
“Are we done?” Frank asked.
“Yes,” Hai said. “We are done.”
“Wendy is right, you know. Killing people has a corrosive effect on you.”
“Captain,” Ciera said, “we had to do this. It wasn’t killing, it was an execution.”
“And what is the difference, Hai? We reached out and took six lives. Sure, they didn’t deserve to live, but in what way are we better than them?”
“Sir, I won’t lose any sleep over these, and neither should
you. It wasn’t fun. In fact, it was a pretty horrible thing to have to do. But sooner or later they would have started in on the Montorans. You said it yourself, this is part of your job.”
Frank looked at Blakely and then at Ciera. “Can you and Eden take care of the cleanup?”
“Yes, Frank. We’ll take care of it. You need to get back to Wendy.”
“Right; if she will ever speak to me after this. You know, I hope I never have to do something like this again. Let’s go, Gerry.”
Frank stepped out of the dungeon and immediately bent over to vomit on the floor. “Sorry about that. This was unpleasant.”
Chapter Thirteen
Frank stood on the pedestal in the center of the village square looking at the villagers standing before him. “I am here today to ask for volunteers. We are going to begin putting Montora in shape to attract tourists. This will mean money for the merchants here in the village. It will mean more jobs for the rest of you.”
“We have three tasks to begin today. Volunteers will sign up with the seneschal, who will keep track of their time.”
“What are you going to pay us?” a voice came from the group.
“To be honest, I am still working out funding.”
“Can’t work for nothing,” said the voice.
“It will not be for nothing. According to the seneschal, taxes have not been collected in Montora for over ten years. I do not propose to try to collect back taxes. Most of you could not pay them anyway. However, I do plan to allow you to work against future taxes. I also expect you to recognize we will have to pull together to make something of Montora. I cannot do this by myself and neither can you. Does that answer your question?”
There was no response.
“The seneschal is sitting in front of the Village Hall. Line up before him to give him your name. He will assign you to a team.”
“What are we working on today, Margrave?”
“Three projects,” Frank said. “I will need a couple of mechanics to work with Commander Ciera on the power plant. The rest will be split into two teams: one will be doing road work, the other will start the foundations for the sewer plant.”
“Cool!” came another voice. “The place won’t stink anymore.”
There was general laughter.
“Right. It’ll smell better and there will be a lot less risk of disease. This work isn’t just for me. It is for all of us. Any further questions?” he called.
Nobody said anything. “Fine. Line up to get your assignments. Then you will have a half hour to pack a lunch and tools, and meet back here. I will make sure there is drinking water available for you.”
Frank stepped down off the pedestal. I guess I will have to come up with a statue for the square, he thought. Should I have one of Jack made? There is no end to the things that have to be done around here.
A rumble of conversation arose from the villagers. Several of the men immediately walked over to Blakely. A few more began to drift in his direction. Yasmin Gris pushed her way to the pedestal.
“Let’s get going gentlemen. We don’t have all day and there is work to be done.”
“Are you volunteering, Yasmin?” a voice called.
“I’m going to volunteer right now and you had better be right behind me, Wilbur. And that goes for the rest of you. The margrave may not kick you around if you don’t, but I surely will. And I guarantee you that you do not want that!” The stocky gray-head pushed back through the villagers and stumped over toward Blakely. There was now definite movement following her.
Ciera had been standing at the base of the pedestal. He stepped close to Frank. “I think I like that woman,” he said quietly.
“She’s far too old for you, Hai.”
Of the fifteen or so men assigned to the road crew, Frank sent most into the hills around the village to start collecting rock and gravel. Two remained with him and Harmon Eckert, who was functioning as the surveyor. He was standing with the transit and was directing the two villagers who moved up and down the road sticking poles into the ground. They had picked the main street through the village where the stone paved road ended and the dirt path began. It ran from the village to the hillside meadow where the shuttles landed.
“Margrave, if you would, please, pound a stake where Vern there has the marker.”
“Of course,” Frank said. He carried the short stake and mallet over to where Vern was standing. “Lift up now, Vern.” Frank set the stake where the pole was previously. “Look good, Harmon?”
“That’s good,” the surveyor called.
Frank squatted down and used the mallet to work the stake into the ground. He walked back to Eckert. “You don’t know how glad I am to find a surveyor in this group. At least we have some hope of making this look professional, anyway.”
“Oh, I can help you design the road too,” the surveyor said.
“Can you now?”
“Oh, yes. I think we can put something in from here to the landing field that will outlast either of us.”
“I am planning to live for quite a while,” Frank said.
“Me too.”
“What do you have in mind?”
“Well, two primary things to keep in mind are to manage the weight of the loads across the road surface and manage the water so it doesn’t undermine the road. What we do is raise the roadbed a bit and then design gutters to handle the runoff. The bed needs to have several layers of gravel, the most coarse on the bottom and topped with sand. We then place at least two layers of stone over that. We will need curbing to keep the edges from shifting. And then sidewalks along both sides. It is a lot of work, Sir, but the result is satisfactory.”
“What about water freezing under the roadbed in winter? That would destroy the road, I think.”
Eckert nodded. “I can see you like to think of all possible consequences. With the raised roadbed and the gravel under the block, any water seeping through would work its way to the edge and drain into the gutters. You can never block water, but you can manage it.”
Frank laughed. “You have given this much more thought than I have. I suppose I should be wise enough to place myself in your capable hands. How did you find your way to Montora, anyway?”
The surveyor looked down and scuffed his feet and said nothing.
“Never mind,” Frank said. “Just tell me what to do here.”
“Do you think, Sir, you could get some light earthmoving equipment in here?”
“What would you suggest?”
“A general purpose tractor with a scoop and back-hoe would do just dandy.”
“And what would something like that cost?”
“I don’t know. Fifteen to forty thousand Centaurans.”
Frank scratched his chain. “That’s a lot of money.”
“Yes, Sir, but it would move the road along much, much faster, plus it would have uses all over the village and the keep.”
“That makes a lot of sense. Let me see what I can do. It would have to be airlifted in here. That will limit the size.”
“Yes, but we do not need something huge. Most utility tractors are small enough to airlift.”
“All right. Let’s get busy and we can talk about the equipment later.”
A couple of men walked out of the forest with a bucket of rock suspended between them on a pole. “Just dump it over there,” Harmon pointed. “Once we get a decent pile, we can have someone start sorting.”
Frank grabbed a mattock and began hogging out soil along where the storm drains would be laid. Harmon Eckert set several more stakes and then picked up a shovel. He began throwing the loose dirt into the roadway as Frank worked along the edge. A regular stream of men carrying rock and gravel added to the pile next to the roadway.
One of the villagers began sorting the rock. “I guess you want the flattest pieces for paving, Eckert?”
“Anything with a flat edge. We should be able to work just about anything into the roadbed.”
“But will it say pu
t?”
“I suppose we can’t have everything, but a molly-cutter would be real nice, Margrave.”
Frank looked up from his digging. “Add it to the list. We are also going to have to figure out how to get power down to the village so we can recharge the accumulators.”
