by Jo Zebedee
He got to the second from last connection and realised the damage from his attack had caused it to fail. He climbed under the desk to look at the connections and see what he could do.
“Wow, like a toy shop, sir,” a familiar voice said.
Kare rolled his eyes. “It’s good you’re pleased, but I need you to work the defences, not rub your hands in delight.”
“You’re feeling more like yourself, I see,” said Lichio.
Kare ignored him. “There should be a shield for the port if I get through the last security level. Once that’s up, they’ll not be able to take it.” He saw where the damaged connection was and reconnected it. When he emerged, Lichio, for all his talk, was working the system, firing at the Empress’ troops.
“Are the spies in?” Kare asked.
“Yes, sir.”
“I’ll have to hunt out Simone later and thank her. Assuming we survive long enough,” Kare said, and grinned at Lichio’s look of concern. Kare zoned the sounds of the attack out, calmly working his way through the last few screens. “You have laser cannons mounted on each entranceway, Lich; use those, too. If I open the bombard cannons it’ll slow the shield.”
“Okay, but we need that shield up,” Lichio said. “Bay three’s cargo door is nearly compromised.”
“A couple of minutes.”
There was another assault on the door, the armoured vehicles unaffected by the port’s lasers. Their mounted cannons continued to send out targeted blasts, one after another. Kare cleared the last security level and waited for the system to confirm. On the screen, the cargo door buckled further. Silom’s squad had gathered inside.
“Colonel,” warned Lichio. “We need it now.”
“Listen,” Kare said. The noise from the explosions became muffled.
“It’s up?”
“It’s up, and they’ll know it. They’ll pull back. Have a good look at the defences when you get the chance. This place is pretty close to impenetrable.”
“They’ve pulled away from the back door, sir.”
“Good. I think we can say we’ve secured the port, then.”
He opened the comms link and typed in a familiar configuration, one he had never expected to use again. “Banned fleet,” he said, “this is Colonel Varnon. The port is ours. I say again; the port is ours. Bring your ships in.”
He spun his seat to face Lichio. “Any happier?”
Lichio looked at him, and Kare could see the respect back in his eyes.
“Yes. How do you plan to run it, sir?”
“As soon as the Banned forces are in, start an aerial assault. Keep Abendau locked down. They’ll try to use whatever fighters they have at the port in Bendau. Make sure we have coverage over the desert, take down anything that comes across. Use any Controllers Sonly brings for that– that’s where they’ll use theirs. Hold the ground forces back; we have to reduce their defences first.”
“If I may, sir?” Kare nodded his assent. “I think we would be better assaulting tonight, before they can get the defences in place. If we wait, they could fortify the palace more, bring in troops from the city.”
Kare hesitated while he considered Lichio’s words, then shook his head. “No, we do it my way. If we hit them hard enough we should be in position for a ground assault tomorrow, or the next day, and have a better chance to win.”
Lichio looked like he wanted to argue further, but after a moment he nodded. “Yes, sir.”
“Thank you, Lichio. You take it for now; I want to meet the ships as they come in, see what we have.”
“I’ll liaise with them. With all this to play with, I could stay here all day.”
“That’s good,” Kare said. “I have a shortage of techies, so you probably will.” He turned to go.
“Kare,” Lichio said softly, and Kare turned back at the use of his first name. “Take the collar off, and put on a shirt. You don’t want to frighten her.”
Kare paused. “What the hell am I going to say to her, Lich?”
Lichio looked at him with sympathy. “I’m planning to start with hello. Do you want me to tell her? You know, about the– ”
“No, I will,” Kare interrupted, his voice harsh. “Sometime. Somehow. But, thank you.”
He snapped the collar off, and held it in his hands for a moment before he set it down. He took a jacket from the back of one of the seats and started to walk to the port, buttoning it up as he did. Sonly was here and he could hardly remember what she looked like. His hands dampened and he wiped them on his jacket, and realised he was as scared now as he had been when he’d faced Beck. He belonged to her, as she did him, and he wanted back to that. But he was afraid he might still be Beck’s, and wasn’t sure he could be both. He paused for a moment, trying to tell himself it was Sonly, not a stranger. He started walking again, still worried that too much had happened to go back.
CHAPTER FORTY-FIVE
The ship swooped over the great city of Abendau, diving when the palace guns fired on it. Below, armoured vehicles were in defensive lines at each of the access points to the city and palace. There were no enemy ships in the air.
“No aerial defences at all?” Sonly checked.
“No. It looks like the colonel has the port defences operational, too.”
She moved to the exit hatch before the ship landed, clenching and unclenching her hands. She was actually going to see him. Her stomach churned, part excitement, part fear. Margueritte Tortdeniel’s words came back, her description of a Kare who had capitulated. The details of the reports received from Sam’s partner. However Kare was, he’d be changed.
As soon as the hatch opened she stepped out and looked round the port, but Kare wasn't in sight. She climbed down, planning to find the control room, and stopped at the sound of his voice. Her heart started to beat faster, and as she walked down the gangway, the floor swam in front of her.
She got to the bottom and looked around. Someone was watching her from about fifteen feet away, and at first she wondered if it was the doctor she’d heard about. Then she looked past the white hair and lined face to the unmistakable green eyes, and stood for a moment, shock running through her, so sharp it was a physical pain. This couldn’t be him: Kare was in his twenties, not this old man. Her breath was coming too quickly, making her dizzy and sick; what had they done to change him so much?
His eyes were fixed on her and she knew he could tell what she was thinking– even without his powers, he would have known. She told herself it didn’t matter, that nothing mattered except he was back. That got her moving. She ran past a cargo truck and through a squad of soldiers, until she got to about three feet from him. She stopped– he hadn’t moved. He swallowed, as if he was nervous, and she noticed for the first time the scar on his neck, the one Michael had warned her about. It was red and vivid against his pale skin.
“Kare?” she asked. He nodded but didn’t seem to know what to say. The silence stretched, and she thought he mightn’t find any words, that she’d have to speak again.
“Hello, Sonly,” he said at last, his voice choked and husky. “I made it back to you. Well, most of me did.”
Sonly closed the final few feet and threw her arms around him. He was thinner than she’d ever known, and tense, so tense it felt like he could break. He stood, not embracing her back, and she didn’t know if she should hold him closer or give him space. Her throat closed at a rush of tears. She’d always known what to do for him. She’d held him through nightmare after nightmare, reaching for him in the darkness of their room, and he’d taken her comfort, had used it to find strength, as she’d used his. Now he was stiff and still, a stranger, and she’d never felt so useless and lost.
“I missed you,” she said, into his chest, and felt him nod. She looked up and saw his eyes were filled with tears, but when he blinked, they cleared, as if she’d imagined it. He pushed her away, not roughly, but firmly.
“Kare….” She had to say something. The miss
ing months, what had happened to him, hung heavy between them. “What can I do? What will help?”
“I– I….” He looked away, and then glanced back, not quite meeting her eyes. He was shaking. “Please– don’t push. I can’t take it.” He swallowed, his adam’s apple prominent in his thin throat. “I’m just about coping as it is.”
He turned to leave and she caught his arm to stop him, the bones of his wrists hard. “It will be okay.” He didn’t move, didn’t show any life in him or any sign of hope. “Won’t it, Kare?”
His eyes held hers for just a moment too long. “I don’t know.” He pulled his hand away. “I don’t know anything. Not anymore.”
He’d always had the answers; he was smart, he knew what he wanted. He wasn’t this shadow, this shaking person whose eyes shifted around the room, watching, whose arms had crossed in front of him, as if holding the world at a distance.
“I can help,” she said, but didn’t know if she could. She could barely find the words to say to him, or know how to comfort him– how was she ever going to help him through this? She wanted to wrap him in her arms and never let go, keep him where no one could hurt him again. She took a step forward, but he leaned back, rejecting her, and the words she should say– that she loved him, that they’d find a way past this– died.
“You will,” he said. His voice was soft. “But there’s too much going on right now. I need to finish the attack, take Abendau. Make us safe. Then I can think about things. Not before.” His eyes were pleading. “Please. Give me that time.”
He was right. With the chance of his mother returning he needed safety, not a bare port in a war zone.
“What can I do?” she asked. “I didn’t come to watch.”
“Heaven forbid,” he said, and she could tell how hard it had been for him to make the small joke. “I need you to add to the pressure. Politically. I plan to take Abendau, and you need to find out what position that will put us in. In the meantime, I have to get the ships in and find somewhere to put your troops; there are no beds here. I’ll also have to figure out how the hell to feed them.”
Now he was talking about the campaign, he seemed more confident. It appeared he was right and it was all he could cope with– after they won, they could talk.
“We’ve brought supplies: ship’s rations, uniforms, whatever weaponry we had. There are transports following, too– that should help with the accommodation,” she said, and he nodded his thanks.
“Sir, the clinic? Where do you want it?” asked a sandy-haired man.
Sonly turned at the interruption, then looked at Kare quizzically.
“One of the transports? One that’s not being used for sleeping.” Kare turned to Sonly. “This is Sam Prentice, the doctor; he holds the rank of lieutenant with us. Sam, this is Sonly, my wife.”
“Colonel!” shouted Silom from the other side of the hangar.
“There’s a command meeting in fifteen minutes. I’d like you both there,” Kare said, and walked across to Silom.
“It’s nice to finally meet you,” Sam said, a little awkwardly. “He talks a lot about you.”
Sonly pulled her eyes away from Kare and realised Sam’s eyes were full of sympathy.
“He’s different,” she said. “From before.”
“Very different. He probably doesn’t know this, but if he’s going to recover, he needs you. He might push you away– if he does, try and stick with him.”
“Can you tell me what they did? I know some of it, but not all.”
Sam shook his head, and he looked guilty as hell. “It’s his to tell and he will, when he can. Come on, I’ll walk over with you.”
They walked to the control room, where Lichio was sitting in one of the swivel chairs. He, too, looked older and thinner but it wasn’t as dramatic as with Kare. He stood, a smile on his face which was, at least, welcoming.
“Lichio,” she gasped. She threw her arms around him. “I was scared you were dead.”
He took her arms down, and hugged her lightly instead. “Me too. We didn’t know if anyone survived.”
Again she put her arms around him, and this time he hissed with pain.
“What is it?” she asked.
Lichio removed her arms. “The remnants of the last whipping the bastards are going to give me.” His voice and eyes were hard, harder than she’d ever imagined him to be.
“They whipped you?” she said. She’d known they had, of course. In fact, she knew they’d done worse to him, but hadn’t expected to be confronted by it so vividly.
“Yes, they whipped me. How the hell else do you think they got me to work in a quarry?”
She couldn’t decide if it was a joke or not, until she saw the glint of mischief in his eyes. She started to smile. Behind her, a familiar, deep voice made her jump.
“Kare should have thought of it years ago; it was an excellent motivator for your lazy brother.”
She spun, saw Silom and reached out to hug him. He caught her arms. “I’m with Lich, though. No hugs. Not for a couple of days.”
They both stared at each other, Sonly remembering how he’d been cornered, her baby pulled from his arms. She’d heard Kerra cry and then the shot, and had tried to jump from the transport, but the hatch had started to come up and she couldn’t. She’d screamed Silom’s name, hoping he’d fight them off and reach her. He’d tried, had got past two of them, but there’d been too many.
“I’m sorry,” he said.
“It wasn’t your fault. You tried to get her away.”
He nodded, and there was something about him: his height, his reliability, maybe, that made her feel things might be all right for the first time since the alarms had ripped through the base.
“Glad everyone’s caught up. Now, let’s get down to work,” said Kare, behind her.
She sat in one of the chairs, watching him check the screens and talk to Silom about troops. He was managing, but she could tell he was struggling: his movements were a little too quick; his eyes were flitting as if he was ready to run; his hand never strayed far from his blaster. Behind him, she noticed an iron ring, and she looked from it to Kare’s scar and it made her nauseous. He turned and leaned against one of the desks, his arms folded.
“We’ve done well for the first day,” he said, “but it will take time before we’re in the position for a ground assault. I want to get the attack plans finalised, and the soldiers prepared. Lichio, transfer to ops-command; the men are used to you as my second. Silom, I need you to run the ground troops; Lyle, you stay with the air units. I have a good idea what defences they have, but I don’t know what ships we’ve got here, our troop capacity.”
Lyle nodded, “I have an inventory of the ships underway.”
“I’ll compile a list of ranks and specialities,” Silom said, and Kare nodded his thanks.
“Do that; we’ll meet again first thing. You can go now.”
Kare waited for them to leave, checked the screens in front of him and leaned back in his chair. Sonly sat beside him.
“You’re doing fine,” she said. He nodded. “Can you take the palace?” He didn’t answer. “Kare, this is like pulling teeth. Can you take the palace?”
“Yes,” Kare said quietly. “I think I can. If I do, where does it put us?”
“When I left, Michael was in liaison with much of the outer rim, and I think they’ll support us. I spoke to the Peiret family. They have been wavering for months, you know that. They’ll back us, if you take Abendau, and I’m sure Tortdeniel will, too. If Balandt come onboard, with their wealth, we can force it through. I’m sure of it.”
“So, that’s the outer rim and three of the families, assuming Abendau is forced to surrender. Not bad for a slave revolt,” he said.
“They had a good leader.” He didn’t respond, and she tried a different tack. “Don’t you need to sleep? You must be tired.”
“I’m not. Sonly, I can do things I never imagined; I feel
almost like I’m some sort of superhuman. I don’t know if it’s because I haven’t used my psyche for so long, or just I’m not used to it, but I feel like there is nothing I can’t do with my powers.”
A chill ran through Sonly. “Don’t get ridiculous notions. Your mother thinks she’s a god; it’s not a nice family trait.”
He smiled a little at that. “Anyway, what are my options?”
“You’re planning to depose the Empress?” He had to, surely. There was no other option. This was their one chance at Abendau– the Banned didn’t have the army to fight on. But she couldn’t tell him that this was the make-or-break moment, the point where history pivoted. He didn’t need any more pressure.
“I think if I take the palace, her symbolic home, then yes– I’ll be in that position. Especially if you can deliver what you just said.”
“If you depose her, the families will recognise you, and the middle sector will follow. Inter-planetary trading, apart from anything else, is too linked not to. You’ll have your republic.” No matter what Michael said, or the great families. If Kare wanted his mother’s empire razed to the ground, she’d support him in it. She’d support him in anything that would give him peace, and space, and the chance to recover.
“I don’t think it’ll work, not anymore. I’ve seen how the palace works and been with her people. They’re brainwashed. They need someone to take her place and that someone needs to be strong enough to hold them. Bind them to the leader.”
Her mouth fell open, and she stood for a moment, taking in his hard eyes, how they swept dispassionately across the screens instead of meeting hers.
