Space Trek (Three Novels, Three Worlds, Three Journeys Book 1)

by Jo Zebedee

  Ten minutes later, Kare had a force of twenty-six soldiers and one fairly timid medic. His eyes scanned over them: no weapons; exhausted soldiers; a leader who was just about standing up. This was what was left of his army?

  He turned to Lichio. “Split the group into pairs: experienced with less experienced. Keep the doc with you, and leave me on my own. I want this place secured, Captain, quietly and quickly.”

  He moved away from the prison cells and corridors. Ahead, he could see a light from under a heavy door, and when he reached in could sense at least ten guards.

  He went back to the group. “I’m going to secure the exit door and take out the one operating the comms. Who has weapons?” Four of the soldiers, including Silom, stepped forward. “When I open the door, standard Banned room clearance drill; they should have nowhere to go.”

  “Yes, sir,” came the responses, and it made Kare feel more like he remembered how to do this sort of thing. He waited until they were in place, his hands slippery but the nerves felt good, somehow; like he was doing something. He put his hands on the door, taking a deep breath, and pushed hard on it.

  “Hey!” One of the guards was already on his feet, reaching for his blaster. “It’s a break!” he yelled. “Send the code!”

  Hell, if the operator got word out, this would be the shortest prison break in history. Kare stepped back, ignoring the guards; let Silom deal with them. He zoned out the yells, the sounds of returning fire, and focused on the guard on the comms unit. Already he was tapping in the number. Kare slammed his fingers, heard the snapping of bones. The tapping stopped.

  “Take him out!” yelled Silom.

  Kare focused on the comms operator. Nothing fancy, just like the guards at the cells. He twisted, met the man’s eyes briefly as they rolled back, and the bones in his neck snapped. The eyes were still; the body sat for a moment, and then fell to the floor.

  “Secured!” The Banned soldier to Kare’s right yelled back at the waiting team. “We have the guard room.”

  Silom stepped forward, dispassionately shot one, and checked the next. Behind Lichio, the doctor winced but didn't look away. He was holding up, at least.

  “Good job, well done,” Kare said. “Make sure the weapons are distributed amongst the squad.” He turned to Sam. “How many in each dorm?”

  “Four at the most.”

  “How many dorms?”

  “Ten. I checked, this afternoon.”

  Kare nodded his thanks and turned to his army. “Each pair take a dorm. No petty revenge; I just want them dead. Report to me when you’re sure each room is clear. Captain, you allocate the dorms.” Lichio nodded, but looked so tired Kare wondered if he could be put in charge. He glanced at Silom, who was leaning against the wall but seemed much more alert. “Sergeant?” Silom nodded. “You’re in charge of the attack– liaise with the captain on the ground. I’ll do one last recce, check we have everyone.”

  Half an hour later, with no alarm raised to the outside, the quarry was secured and all the guards were dead.

  “Where’s Beck being held?” Kare asked Sam. He needed to end this, now– the walls had been shifting around him for the last half hour at least, and twice he had threatened to black out. Sam had been beside him the last time and had given him another of his drinks. Kare didn’t know what it was, but he was feeling sharper since.

  “In the medical wing. He’s a bit better today; I ran out of supplies.”

  “Take me to him.” Bile rose in him, sickening him. To face Beck again, to see his face, hear his voice.

  “I’d like to come too, sir,” Silom said.

  Should he refuse? But the thought of facing Beck on his own was too much. “All right; but be careful. He’s dangerous.” His throat closed, made it hard to breathe. “Merciless.”

  “I know.” Silom met Kare’s eyes, his chin raised. He’d seen everything, no doubt– the scars, the broken bones. His mouth tightened, his chest puffed out. “I’ve seen what I need to. Sir.”

  They followed Sam through the complex, into a short corridor. He stopped outside one of the doors, and pointed to it. Kare walked up to the door. Can I stand and face him like the man I was? He took a deep breath, steadying himself. “Silom,” he said, and waited until his cousin was beside him. He had to do this himself; he had to know he could. “He’s mine.” He opened the door and stepped inside.

  “Hi, Beck,” he said. “Miss me?”

  Beck got to his feet, his hand over his stomach. Kare moved forward, the hatred surging though him giving him strength. He was more than ready to kill this bastard.

  “You can’t hurt me,” Beck said. “I forbid it.”

  Kare stopped and held a hand out in front of him, focusing on the slender bones in Beck's neck. One snap, and it would be over. A wave of dizziness passed over him, and he couldn’t find anything to pull on. He’d never been so drained before, that was all. Once more he flexed his mind, the action familiar. He’d done this so many times, it was like eating and breathing. Again, nothing happened. Kare stepped back: he couldn’t do it. After everything Beck had done to him, he still couldn’t do it. Beck started to laugh, reminding Kare he knew him better than anyone.

  “Taken a piss yet, Dog?” asked Beck.

  Yes, he had. It didn’t change anything. Beck cuffed Kare lightly on the ear. Kare didn’t try to stop him; he wouldn’t know how to. He opened his mouth to call for Silom, but couldn’t do that, either. Instead, he stood, paralysed, as the guard reached his hand out.

  “Give me your weapon, and I’ll kill you quickly. If you don’t, I’ll take you back.” He leaned close, his breath sour. “I’ll take you, and I’ll finish you. You’ll beg to die.”

  He had, many times. Kare closed his eyes, trying to force the images of his cell away, but it made no difference. He lifted his rifle, hating himself for his weakness.

  “Open your eyes, Dog, or I’ll have them stitched open. No hiding place, you know that.”

  Kare’s eyes snapped open. Beck took the other end of his rifle and Kare started to release his hand. He met Beck’s dark eyes, wanting to resist, wanting to find a way to repay the bastard. But another part of him, deep, deep inside felt only relief that it might finally be over and he wouldn’t be hurt anymore. He remembered his father, how he’d retreated from reality, and wished he, too, could close the door and not have to deal with anything. He opened his hand…

  Someone pushed him to the side. “What the fuck are you doing?” Silom, eyes staring, face puce. Kare tightened the grip on his rifle and wrenched it from Beck’s hand.

  “I can’t do it. He’s my master.”

  Silom’s eyes hardened, and he brought his own rifle up. Beck backed away, his hands out.

  “I can,” Silom said.

  Beck pointed at Kare, making his stomach turn to water. “Stop him, Dog.”

  “Give the order, Kare, and he’s dead,” said Silom. Please, his eyes said, let me. “Give the order, and you’ll have killed him yourself.”

  Kare closed his eyes, telling himself not to look at Beck. He gasped in a breath of air.

  “Silom,” he said, the word trailed through gritted teeth. “Kill the bastard.”

  He turned and walked out, forcing himself to put one foot in front of the other and not look back. In the corridor Sam was waiting and he stood beside him. He wiped his mouth, feeling sick.

  “You’re lucky he’s in charge,” he heard Silom say, conversationally. “If it’d been up to me, I’d have hung you up and ripped your guts out. Slowly. I’ve been looking forward to it since we met.” There was a gunshot, and a scream. “Shit, my aim’s gone to hell,” said Silom. “I’ll aim higher, this time.”

  “Kill him,” whispered Kare. “Do it.”

  The doctor looked sick. There was another shot and scream. Kare closed his eyes, needing this to be done.

  “Kill him!” he shouted. Sam put a hand on his shoulder, and it calmed him a little. “Now, Silom!�
��

  There was another shot, and then silence. He leaned against the wall. He’d won; Beck was dead.

  Silom came out of the room. “I wanted him to beg.” He ran a hand through his hair. “I wanted him to know what it was like, to be scared enough to beg.” He breathed out, a whoosh of air. “I wanted him to know.”

  “I just wanted him dead.” Kare’s voice came out as a croak.

  Silom clapped a hand on his shoulder. “Well, he is. You did it. You gave the order. He’s not your master anymore.”

  "It’s good," said Sam, still a little pale. "Someone like that– he'd have kept on hurting."

  Silom walked away, Sam beside him, but Kare paused. Beck wasn't his master any more, Silom had said. He looked back at the swinging door. Wasn’t he?

  ***

  “What now, sir?” asked Lichio. They sat at the main desk of the guards’ recreation room with Silom and the doctor. Lichio coughed, and Kare noticed the doctor frown a little.

  “We wait,” Kare said. “If I push the squad tonight, they’ve had no sleep, bugger all food and we’re rushing.” Besides which, he needed to recharge. They all did. “Silom, sort the slaves out. Keep them in the main quarry, and allow them open access to the cells but not to here.”

  “Should we put guards on?”

  “Any troublemakers?”

  “A few, a couple of grievances.”

  “Keep the ones you’re worried about in the cells for now,” Kare said. “We don’t have enough people to guard them.” He saw Lichio yawn. “Then get some sleep. Once we leave here, we won’t get another chance. Four hours, then I want you both back in here.” As they went to leave he called Lichio back. “Take your shirt off and sit down.”

  “What?” Lichio said.

  “Now, Captain.”

  Lichio did as he’d been ordered.

  “This will hurt,” warned Kare, as he put his hands on Lichio’s chest.

  He could feel the damage in Lichio’s lungs and the fine dust that clogged them. Can I do it? Kare tried not to think about what he was doing, but let his mind do what it was used to. A few moments later there was a surprised yell from Lichio. “Shit, Kare, that hurts!”

  Kare kept going for another few minutes, until he was satisfied. “Better?”

  Lichio took a deep breath and smiled. “Better, sir.”

  “Good. I don’t do it very often, so don’t advertise it; I’m not fixing everyone’s cuts and bruises. Now go, get some rest.”

  So, he could heal Lichio, he could kill guards– why the hell wouldn’t it work with Beck? Because he didn’t believe he could kill him? His dad had always said there was no room for doubt if you were a psycher. It was understandable his confidence had failed with Beck: it was a one-off. He pushed it from his thoughts, but not before he had a single, shocking new thought. What happens when I meet the Empress?

  A noise in the room made him look up, and he saw Sam was still there.

  “How are you doing?” asked the doctor, his voice kind.

  He drew in a breath, his shoulders shuddering. “Okay.” He supposed.

  “You know, everything that happened in Omendegon…?” Sam said. Kare stiffened, his hands clenching into fists, pain shooting through his fingers. “I’m finding this hard,” continued Sam. “I’m finding it hard to face you– I let it happen.”

  His voice caught a little, making Kare look up at him. “That’s two of us. You saw the things I did….”

  Sam shook his head. “I saw what you were forced to do. Maybe we can try to– look, it was an impossible place…”

  “An impossible place,” said Kare, echoing the weak words. “Try again. Hell? A sadist’s playground?” He looked down at his hands, misshapen from the breaks. If so, he’d been his toy.

  “Yes.” Sam looked down at the table. “I should have done more.” His hand clenched. “I should have done something.” He raised his head– his eyes were screwed half-closed, his mouth drawn into a harsh line.

  Kare paused, wanting to say he was right, that he should have done something. The doctor would haunt his dreams for years: a shadowy figure who’d facilitated.

  Who’d risked everything to help him. “You don’t need to say anything else about it.”

  “When are you going to rest?” asked the doctor. “You must be exhausted.”

  The thought of stopping, of lying down for any time, sent a cold spike through Kare. If he stopped, would he ever manage to start again? He shook his head. “I’m fine. My psyche will keep me going.”

  “You’d be better if you rest. I’ll wake you in a while.”

  The doctor was right, he was dead on his feet. Still, he hesitated, checked round the room and, once satisfied only Sam remained, walked to the sofa and stretched out, a guard's blaster held against his chest. He might have showered and changed earlier, and it was good to be clean and unshackled, but he wanted something solid in his hands. Clutching it, he fell asleep in moments.

  ***

  Sam wasn’t surprised when Kare woke up; he’d listened to him pleading with someone for the last ten minutes and guessed the nightmare had finally come to a climax.

  “Tea?” asked Sam. He handed Kare a cup and another of the energy bars, assessing him. He’d have to move to something more substantial soon, but Beck’s standard fare of thin gruel every couple of days, and scraps– fed as a master feeds his pet– needed to be built on carefully.

  Kare took a drink. “The nightmares?” he began.

  “Be astonishing if you didn’t have them.” And much, much worse. Kare nodded and opened his mouth to say something else, and Sam held his hand up. The man was barely holding himself together. “No one needs to know. I’m a doctor; we’re very discreet.”

  “Thank you. I don’t want Silom and Lichio clucking over me.” He glanced at the doctor over his cup. “What’s your first name?”

  “Sam.”

  “Did you have a family before you came to work for her, Sam?” asked Kare, his eyes softer than during the previous night.

  “I had a family: a mum and some sisters.”

  “You know, you don’t have to stay with us; you’ve more than repaid your debt. Not that I think you had anything to repay. You didn’t do it to me, you didn’t order it done, you just got caught up in some sadistic bastard’s dream. He knew you hated it, and Beck knew how to hit everyone where it hurt most.”

  “Thank you,” Sam said. He wasn’t entirely sure how much of that was true, but he accepted the lifeline offered. He took another sip, watching the other man. He seemed ageless, like a magical creature. His men accepted his sudden resurgence as the ancients accepted the phoenix, the miracle of rain after a drought. It seemed they viewed it as the resurrection they had never doubted would come. Kare looked up at him over his cup, and Sam saw his hands were shaking, his eyes flitting, not settling anywhere. A resurrection that was costing this man more than anyone knew.

  “How old are you?” Sam asked.

  “How long have I been here?”

  “Six months. Give or take a few weeks.”

  Kare blinked. “That’s all?” He paused, seeming to work something out. “I must still be twenty-five, then.”

  Twenty-five? He looked sixty. Sam swallowed– to be facing this at twenty-five, to have those sort of nightmares– and tried to smile. “You seem so much older.”

  “You saw what they did to me,” he said, his voice breaking a little. “I can’t tell you how old I feel.”

  “I don’t know how you’re coping.”

  Kare smiled, but there was no real warmth in it. “Physically, I’ve taken care of things. But I don’t know who I am or what I’m doing here. Am I Ealyn because I’m sure he’s been here, in this moment, living it as me? Or am I Kare, and if so am I the same, or an entirely new Kare? Or is a bit of me Karia, who made me change my future and gave me the skills I use today? I don’t know, when this is over, how to find my way back. Or even if there i
s a way back. If there is, it feels very distant.”

  Sam waited for him to continue but he didn’t. “Sonly?” Sam finally asked.

  Kare nodded, and looked down at his cup. “Amongst other things, but yes, Sonly, and what they did to me– I don’t know how to get past it, and back to her.” The door opened and Kare shook himself. It was like a different man had taken his place, this one harder, more focused. “For now, though, I have a rebellion to lead. The offer stands, Sam– if you want to go, you can. You’ve done your part; you owe me nothing more.”

  Sam stood and as he stretched he felt the tiredness in his back and shoulders and heard the clicks and bangs of stress. He wondered how it would feel to go back to his home, to his family, maybe to Nina. Then he looked at Kare again and realised he had never met anyone who moved him, affected him, the way he did.

  “Colonel, I’m yours to command, if you’ll have me.”

  “I’d be proud to.” Kare turned to Silom and Lichio, as they reached him. “Sam’s just become the Banned’s newest recruit and the first member of this little force’s medical corps. Lieutenant. Effective immediately.”

  CHAPTER FORTY-THREE

  “I don’t suppose there’s any chance you’ll take the transports and get us off Belaudii and back to the Banned?” asked Lichio. “You’re home and dry; all you have to do is go, sir.”

  “Where’s your sense of adventure?” Silom's tone was joking, but his eyes never strayed far from Kare. “People join the army to have adventures, not ass around with computer systems.”

  “I’m going to try for the palace,” Kare told them. “I don’t have enough to take the city, but we have a chance at the palace. Sam tells me Sonly’s on the way with aerial support and ground troops.”

  “Will she back you? I thought she’s coming to get us off Belaudii, not an assault,” Lichio said.

  Kare looked at him steadily. “Rjala’s dead, your hateful shit of a brother’s dead; that means I’m head of the military. She’ll come, and she’ll back me.”

  “You’re still planning to take the port with a handful of soldiers and some spies.”