What Needs Defending

by Hiroyuki Morioka

  “You’re what they’re after — fertile women. Otherwise, there would be no reason to stage a revolt now. That’s why we have to prioritize your escape.”

  “But aren’t there female personnel, too?”

  “They’ve got their jobs to do. We’ll have them take refuge as soon as possible, obviously.”

  “Chief Executive...” said Shungarr, moved. “I never would’ve thought it, but you’re a good man.”

  “Of course I am. Everyone on this side of the walls is a good person.”

  “Hold on, though — we don’t have relocation licenses,” said Shungarr

  “Oh, right.” Maydeen turned to Jint. “There’s no time to be issuing licenses. The inmates all have distribution codes. I’d like to use those codes in place of administration-issued relocation licenses for the West Zone residents. Do you mind?”

  “I don’t mind at all.” Relocation licenses were entirely up to the landworld administration’s discretion.

  “Thank you!” Shungarr’s expression turned bright, and she flew out of the room.

  Jint’s wristgear beeped. Lafier was calling.

  “We have a grasp of the situation, more or less. I am having Mechanics Linewing Samson head there now.”

  “You’re a lifesaver.” Jint had totally forgotten about his own safety. “Have you already directed the amphibious ship?”

  “Yes, I have. The Dacsaith will be going to the same place as usual, but I ordered the other two ships to land off the shore of the West Correctional Zone. Is that okay?”

  “Yep. You made the correct call, as expected of Your Highness the Lady Agent.”

  “Don’t mock me; even a child could make such an obvious call. Only, it seems they can’t get too close to the coast, where the water is too shallow.”

  “Then what should I do?” asked Jint.

  “I leave that to you.”

  “Got it.”

  All the while, Maydeen was issuing orders this way and that.

  “Goddammit!” the Chief Executive cursed.

  “What’s wrong?”

  “The marine guardship’s been shot down.”

  “They can attack targets at sea?”

  “It was on duty evacuating the guards that were still remaining at Wall 2. The wall was divided midway through. They blasted the ship when it reached the shore. Looks like they’d strapped explosives to the bilge.”

  “I see. Then we can’t use a guardship to ferry them to the amphibious ship?”

  “There are two guardships left, actually.”

  That was when Jint realized something important had slipped his mind. With a guardship, getting people aboard their ship was possible — but how much time was needed to take everyone?

  “How many people can a guardship take? How fast does it go?”

  “Hold on a second, I’ll call the Ships’ Captain so they can tell us.”

  The Ships’ Captain picked up immediately, and so they learned that it’d take at least ten days to get everyone into orbit... and that was being optimistic.

  “Please secure the Administrative Zone’s sea port, no matter the cost. If you don’t, we won’t make the cutoff for evacuation.”

  “I’m doing what I can here!”

  “Unless the West Zone has a wharf or pier?”

  “Of course not. Only the Administrative Zone has a sea port.”

  “Then can one be constructed?”

  “Within ten days’ time?”

  “Faster.”

  “Can’t be done, Your Excellency. All of the construction workers have already relocated. We’ll try, though. Might as well.”

  “Do it, or else the people staying will come out...”

  “That alone, I can’t abide by!”

  “Please understand, Chief Executive, Your Excellency. We leave landworld affairs to you and your people because we have to. If you can just get everybody to the amphibious ship, then we can take it from there. We can take everyone safely to the prison camp. But if you can’t lay the path toward getting them from the island to the amphibious ship yourselves, we have a problem.”

  “So traversing tens of thousands of light-years isn’t an issue, but a few üésdagh of water are insurmountable.”

  “That’s poetic, when you put it that way,” said Jint admiringly.

  “In any case, we’re fine as long as we can keep the Administrative Zone sea port under our control, right?”

  Jint nodded wordlessly, though he knew that was a tall task. The red blips on the map signified belligerents, and so the area whose border was made up of the red blips was effectively the insurgency’s territory. And that territory was enveloping the Administrative Zone’s coastline, drawing ever closer to the sea port.

  “Is the amphibious ship still not here!?” Maydeen’s voice was tinged with panic.

  “It’s currently flying down through the atmosphere.” Jint could tell where it was at all times thanks to his wristgear.

  “Tell me the truth, Your Excellency — you don’t think it’d be better for the insurrection to succeed, do you?”

  “Why would I?” he replied, shocked.

  “I know you people aren’t happy being saddled with a mass relocation. Yet you did a thorough job of it anyway. I hate to say this to our invaders, but I am grateful, in my way.”

  “Well, thank you.” Jint refrained from adding, You really never looked it.

  “If I were to lose my position here, with Dohkfoo or Anguson appointed in my stead, they would without a doubt order the relocation plan cancelled, thereby freeing you of this burden.”

  “Sure, that would be easier,” smiled Jint. “But the permission to relocate granted to the inmates of the West Zone would remain in effect, even if the Saimh (Representative) changed. If the women themselves say they want to board ship, we can’t refuse them.”

  “Even if the new Citizen Representative revoked that permission?”

  “They can’t revoke it if they don’t know what’s what in the first place.”

  “I guess that’s true. I can just not tell them.” For the first time, Maydeen showed him an amiable expression.

  As the two of them conversed, the red points of light on the map approached the government buildings. At present, they had penetrated the central park, north of the offices.

  “It appears we have to abandon the building sooner rather than later,” said Maydeen.

  “Are you going to the port?”

  “No other choice. Though it’ll be difficult to give orders from there.”

  “If you’re headed for the port, then I’ll accompany you. There’s no real point staying here.” Jint spoke into the wristgear: “Mr. Samson, where are you?”

  “I’m sorry,” he slurred. “We’re still at the lodge house. Apparently, my subordinates mistook this surface stay of ours for a vacation, so it took a while to gather ‘em.”

  “Go to the port for me. I’ll meet up with you there in no time.”

  “Gotcha.”

  The Port Affairs building of Rajay Sea Port was an elegant three-story structure. On this landworld where the buildings looked gloomy and bleak even under the bright sunshine — Jint inwardly called it the “Lohbnahss Style” — the only buildings with any amount of thought paid to their exterior beauty were the inspectors’ lodge houses and the Port Affairs Building. And considering this building was always the first a fresh ship’s-full of prisoners would see, it had to be a product either of irony or of straight deception.

  Jint was on the top floor, along with Maydeen and Samson. The Basrogrh’s meager land brigade guarded the building, while Shungarr was at the West Zone, directing its evacuation.

  A night had passed since the insurrection flared up, and the fact that they’d held onto it was close to a miracle.

  From the window, they could see the inmates from the West Zone filling the plaza by the wharf. The amphibious ship Lymsaith caused the seawater to spray as it lifted off. Moments later, the Luisaith showed itself from behind th
e mountain.

  “Does the ship that left first still have yet to return?” asked Maydeen.

  Jint didn’t know how many times he’d been asked that exact question over just the last hour, but he replied politely. “The ship transfer’s complete. It’s scheduled to enter the atmosphere within the half-hour.”

  “Ah...”

  Jint had only slept two hours, but Maydeen hadn’t slept a wink. He was visibly irritated, and not just because of the lack of sleep. There was also the fact that the port area’s information functionality was crude indeed compared to the prime office of the Administrative Building.

  “Why don’t you rest for a bit? We have a long way ahead of us,” said Jint. Or maybe he just wants me to mind my own business.

  “The one who knows my body best is me. Please don’t fuss over me.”

  “Okay, sir.” Jint shot a look behind him. Samson was nodding off, seated backwards in a chair. That was hardly a surprising sight — he’d looked about ready to collapse by the time they rendezvoused. If the uprising hadn’t broken out last night, and if there was no such thing as sober-upper pills, then the Inspector Supervisor of the Basrogrh would have been nursing a monstrous hangover right around now.

  The Luisaith touched down with a splash. The retractable jetty began to swiftly stretch back out to sea, and with that, the crowd at the plaza surged like a wave. Several people seemingly fell into the water.

  “Chief Executive, Tomasov here.” His hologram appeared. “It’s no use. We can’t hold East 12th Street for much longer.”

  Jint scanned the map of Rajay Island. With East 12th Street overtaken, access between the West Zone and the sea port would be severed. They could be ferried over to the port via airship or seaship, but they were small and few in number, stalling the operation a great deal. Moreover, the two remaining airships were currently locked in battle.

  “Please allow us to extract troops from Wall 3,” Tomasov entreated.

  For a moment, Maydeen stared into space, and said nothing. Then, at last, he shook his head.

  “I can’t allow that. Wall 3 is the last line of defense.”

  Tomasov was about to reply, but the Chief Executive forcefully cut the transmission. “Your Excellency, may I substitute my staff’s ID codes for their relocation licenses, as well?”

  “Of course,” said Jint. “I was planning to, anyway.”

  “Thank you.” Maydeen then called Tomasov. “Give me an hour. No, it likely won’t even take an hour. Defend East 12th until I reach the West Zone. Afterwards, divide the troops into two. One group is to defend the western sections of Walls 1 and 3. The other is to defend this port to the death. Once every West Zone inmate has boarded, I will allow the troops defending the port to board as well. They may stay aboard and relocate if they wish. As for each group’s troop numbers and commanders, they’re up to you. Am I understood?”

  “But Chief...”

  “Am. I. Understood!?”

  “Roger.” Tomasov saluted. “However, might I suggest escape by airship as a potentially superior alternative? We could temporarily call off the mission and send them over there.”

  Maydeen shook his head. “No. If the inmates waiting to board ship see an airship flying away from here, they’ll get flustered. It might cause an irreversible panic.”

  “That didn’t occur to me. All right, we’ll hold the line for one hour. Over and out.” Another salute, and Tomasov blinked out.

  “Now then, it’s just as you overheard — I’ll be joining Ms. Shungarr in the West. Your Excellency, I bid you return on that ship.” He jerked his chin to point at the Luisaith.

  “A Citizen Representative doesn’t have the authority to order a Lady Agent Adjunct,” said Jint.

  “True, true. I apologize if I’ve offended you.”

  “Don’t worry, I’m not offended in the slightest.”

  “That’s good. Just take it as a piece of advice, then. Though I’m sure I don’t need to tell Your Excellency that.”

  Jint shook Samson awake. “Mr. Samson, please take the crew and return to the Basrogrh.”

  “What’ll you do, laddie?” he asked gently, chin still on the chair’s back.

  “I’ll head for the West Zone alongside His Excellency the Citizen Representative, see my mission through to the fullest extent possible.”

  “Then I can’t just go back. I’m your bodyguard.”

  “But the Basrogrh has to enter planar space before long. And the ship needs its Inspector Supervisor and Sach Scœmr (Mechanics NCCs).

  “Had to hit me where it hurts, huh,” said Samson, scratching his head. “I mean, they’re my guys, so they’re competent, but we do have loads to do. With the supervisor out and half the team missing, the people onboard would resent us for sure. But doesn’t the ship also need its Clerk?”

  “I have three subordinates still up there, and they’re all supervisors of their own field, in a way. If I make it back in the nick of time, it should be fine. The stuff that needs a clerk’s approval, I can handle at my leisure once I’ve left this territory-nation.”

  “Your Excellency!” shouted Maydeen, incensed. “What are you saying? Things are only about to get truly rough starting now. We don’t need your silly heroics getting in the way.”

  “I’m not trying to be a hero,” said Jint. “I’m staying to assess things, essentially.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “If possible, I’d like to see every last asylum seeker board with my own eyes, but I don’t know if that’s in the cards. In fact, it’s probably safe to assume that the chances of that are near zero. We’ll probably have to abort prematurely. And I can assess that outcome more accurately here on the surface, rather than down from orbit.”

  “Is this all so you can help even just a few more people escape?” Maydeen raised an eyebrow. Jint nodded, and the Chief Executive laughed. “Young Count, in case you aren’t aware, allow me to teach you — that is what we call ‘being a hero.’”

  “Really?” said Jint, miffed.

  “But I’ll take your heroics. At least I know now they’re not ‘silly,’ and they’ll serve us well. I ask that you accompany me. Now then, time runs short.”

  “I know.”

  Samson wasn’t entirely convinced, however. “Hold on... Won’t leaving you behind upset the Captain? Let me tell you, I’m not a brave man — I’m content to hear tell of the wrath of the Abliars, and never experience it firsthand.”

  Jint attempted to imagine Lafier bawling at Samson with equal parts sadness and anger... “Why did you leave him behind!?”

  Nope. That was beyond implausible.

  “It’ll be all right,” he said, brimming with confidence. “I’ll keep in touch. You won’t be witnessing Her Highness flip out. Not over this, anyway.”

  “That’s an I-know-her-best face if ever I saw one,” Samson grinned.

  “Oh, no, I, uh...”

  “Don’t fret it. I believe you. Right then, take care of yourself out here, you hear me?”

  “You take care of yourself, too, Mr. Samson.”

  Jint and Maydeen’s hovercar was passing north over East 12th Street. Two guards, their escorts, were seated at the front, and keeping watchful eyes on either side. Jint was firmly settled on the right rear seat, so he had a good view of the battlefront. The Lohbnahss style buildings facing the road were the same as ever. The fires growing at full blast behind them, on the other hand, were notable. It was only a matter of time before the buildings zooming past the car window would succumb.

  The four of them were dead silent. The air was heavy, laden.

  Suddenly, the hovercar veered right.

  “We’re going the wrong way. Did you put the destination in wrong? Put in the right path,” Maydeen ordered the guards.

  Startled, the guard on the left stared at their colleague. “What the...”

  “What are you doing?” Maydeen’s fingers danced across the rear-seat console.

  “Dammit!”

&
nbsp; “What is it?” asked Jint.

  “It won’t take my inputs!”

  Jint wasn’t terribly well versed on the hovercars used in the UH, so he had to ask: “Does that mean we can’t control where we’re going?”

  “Not from back here, at least.” Maydeen glared at his supposed subordinates. “The front-seat console is being prioritized.”

  “I see.” Jint knew what this meant, but he was dumbfounded. “Another little mutiny, huh...”

  “So it would seem.”

  Jint tried gripping the door’s handle to jump out, but it wouldn’t budge.

  “It’s no use. They’ve got them locked using the console,” said Maydeen.

  “What is this? Why are jailers aiding and abetting the inmates!?” Jint asked, giving up on the door.

  “This is all for sweet, sweet Alkyke,” muttered the guard on the right.

  The guard’s tone was light, but his words had a strangely religious tinge to them. “‘Sweet Alkyke’? Is that the name of your god?”

  The guard didn’t answer.

  “For a certain breed, it might as well be their god,” Maydeen answered for him. “Alkyke is Lohbnahss II’s indigenous narcotic.”

  “I heard they were making narcotics here, but...”

  “Yes. I don’t know what it’s like in the Empire, but in the UH, narcotics are illegal. Yet here, there’s free reign to produce and to use. I have no idea who got the ball rolling, but they make the stuff the primitive way, extracting it straight from the plants. Needless to say, we don’t let any Alkyke get exported, but there are those fools even outside the prison population who use.”

  “So what Your Excellency is telling me is that narcotics use has seeped into the guards, too.”

  “Correct!”

  Jint cast another glance at the guards. They were no longer scanning their surroundings. They were just glowering at each other.

  “Gimme your gun,” said the one on the right.

  “Never!”

  The one on the left tried to whip it out in their cramped space, but the other was the quicker hand with the better positioning; they breezily pulled the trigger before the loyal guard could shift stances.