V 13 - To Conquer the Throne

by Tim Sullivan (UC) (epub)

  “I’ll take Shree Subhash,” she said, wondering if the men would disapprove.

  They didn’t appear to. Though she and Subhash had been outsiders before, any suspicion about them seemed to have vanished after the events of this morning. Things were working out well, but there was something she had to know.

  “What of the other two Visitors besides the pilot?” she asked. “What will you do with them, Kelly?”

  “What must be done with all enemies who are not useful to Us,” Kelly replied matter-of-factly.

  Astonished at how coolly he sentenced the two aliens to death, Gabriella began to protest. “But that will make us no better than the Visitors,” she said.

  “Perhaps so, lass,” Kelly replied. “But what else can we do with them? We cannot take them with us. They would only slow us down, and there would be a constant danger of them trying to escape. If they escape and axe picked up by a Visitor patrol or a skyfighter, we axe doomed, don’t you see?”

  Unable to deny the truth in what he was saying, and yet unwilling to kill in cold blood, she said, “What if I make them my responsibility?”

  “What did you say, girl?” Kelly cocked his head.

  “You heard me. They’ll be my prisoners. Maybe I can find some use for them, even if you

  can’t.”

  Calmly removing his spectacles and cleaning them with a handkerchief, Kelly said, “Now, how do you propose to do that? Two lizards, who might not even sleep, so far as we know, and just one of you.”

  “It’s a chance I’ll take, rather than have their blood on my conscience.”

  “But you killed two of them already.”

  “I had no choice.”

  Kelly looked bemused by the distinction. It had doubtless been a very long time since he had been confronted with such idealism. Almost

  wistfully, he put on his glasses.

  “I’ll think it over,” he said.

  “Thank you,” Gabriella said as he walked away. As long as he was thinking it over, the Visitors would not be killed. It was important to her.

  Chapter 17

  A female figure emerged from Nigel Smythe-Walmsley’s cell. She glanced back in at the unconscious man lying on a cot and then the cell door slid shut. She turned and strutted to the command center of the ship and found Medea waiting for her.

  Medea’s thin face broke into a conspiratorial smile, her forked tongue snaking out in pleasure. “You know, Beverly, it actually may be working,” she said.

  Beverly peeled the dermoplast pseudoskin off her neck and chin and pulled the human mask completely off. A moment ago, she had been the very image of Gabriella Nicks, though she had been a bit miffed when the drugged Nigel remarked that she had put on weight. Fortunately, he had been too far gone on the narcotic vapor to make more of it. She must stop eating so many

  gerbils between meals, if only for the sake of her mission.

  “I never had any doubt that my plan would succeed,” she said. “And my idea of cloning Nigel Smythe-Walmsley worked rather well, too. Once the resistance thought he was dead, they were drawn to the girl.”

  “And the cost so far has been a number of our soldiers,” Medea said caustically.

  “Let us not forget,” Beverly retorted, “the destruction of British Resistance Headquarters, shall we? Didn’t Gabriella lead us right to that target? Or have I misinterpreted recent events?” “We destroyed a few resistance fighters and a mansion, but the bodies of Ian, Subhash, and Gabriella Nicks were never found.”

  “There were many bodies burned beyond recognition in the rubble,” Beverly protested. “For all we know, all three of them were among the dead.”

  “You’d better hope they’re among the dead,” Medea said angrily. “If you manage to convert Nigel because he thinks you’re Gabriella, and we send him out as an agent, the reappearance of the real Gabriella will certainly throw a spanner into the works.”

  “Very unlikely,” Beverly replied, but she couldn’t be sure. The idea of that dreadful girl showing up and spoiling everything was not an appealing one.

  “Perhaps you won’t find it quite so unlikely

  when I tell you that another of our skyfighters is missing.”

  “Unfortunate, but what does that have to do with Gabriella?”

  “I’ll show you,” Medea said, turning to the communications console. She ran her fingers over the light panel, and a hologram appeared, showing the inside of a skyfighter, the pilot-facing them.

  “What is this?” Beverly demanded.

  Medea didn’t answer, indicating that Beverly should watch the hologram to see what it was.

  The skyfighter was rocking violently, as if some weight were dangling from it. Gunfire ripped through its interior. Suddenly, a portal burst open, and the soldier nearest it fell out of the skyfighter. An instant later, a lithe figure leaped inside.

  It was Gabriella Nicks!

  “It can’t be,” Beverly mumbled.

  “But it is,” Medea said with grim satisfaction as she slammed her palm down on the console. The three-dimensional image of Gabriella, armed with an Uzi, flickered and winked out. “Therefore, we cannot send Nigel down to Earth again while she is on the loose.”

  “That silly little bubblehead couldn’t conceivably have done that,” Beverly said, still unable to believe her own eyes. “Why, she captured a skyfighter single-handedly.”

  “Yes, she did, didn’t she?” Medea was enjoying this, in spite of the loss of the skyfighter. She was not unaware of Beverly’s vaulting ambition, and she was not about to give up her command to this upstart easily, even if she had bungled things in Florida and the American Southwest. She kept telling herself that it really hadn’t been her fault either time, but Diana, commander of the Earth fleet, remained unconvinced. Medea knew that Beverly would report any failure on her part to Diana. Well, she wasn’t likely to report this, since it would most likely be construed as Beverly’s mistake.

  “We’ll track Gabriella down,” Beverly sputtered. “Where was this skyfighter when it was captured?”

  “In Ireland,” said Medea. “Somewhere in County Kerry.”

  “Then we’ll comb the countryside with skyfighters. We’ll torture those peasants who won’t talk. We’ll track her down and take her, dead or alive.”

  “She’s gone already,” Medea said thoughtfully. “Unlike most of the other resistance forces on Earth, the IRA have experience with this sort of warfare. It’s very difficult to monitor their activities.”

  “It doesn’t matter,” Beverly said angrily. “They’re only a bunch of foul, stinking apes.” “Sauriacentric babbling won’t do any good,” Medea scolded her. “We need action, not racist talk.”

  Beverly turned a cold eye on her superior officer. “Then you think the humans are our equals?” she asked.

  “I didn’t say that,” Medea protested. “I know the official propaganda line, but it won’t do any good in the field. I know. I’ve fought these creatures for quite a while now.”

  “And failed at both your previous missions, I might add,” Beverly exploded.

  Medea looked at her without losing her temper. “Yes,” she said after a long moment, “I failed. But that was because I underestimated my enemy in both cases. I hope that I have benefitted from my experiences. Perhaps you will too.”

  “Platitudes,” Beverly snarled. She spun on her heel and marched out of the command center, the human mask still in her hand.

  Medea watched her go, thinking of calling Beverly on the carpet for insubordination. No, she would wait and strike back at the overstuffed rhinoceros iguana when the time was right. Then Beverly would trouble her no more.

  Chapter 18

  The flight to Kramden Castle was without mishap. The pilot, with a laser pistol to his head all the way, tried no trickery. No other skyfighters were seen patrolling the green countryside, and no farmers took potshots at the lone skyfighter passing overhead. Gabriella mused that word might have reached them that it was in the ha
nds of the IRA.

  The turrets of the crumbling old castle were in sight now, framed against a sky of lowering clouds. Its walls were high, and it stood on a cliff over the sea.

  “Bring her down into the courtyard,” Kelly instructed the pilot.

  The pilot banked slowly as the skyfighter’s nose cleared the crenellated top of the west wall. Below, two men stood, and several long canvas-covered shapes were huddled near the north and

  east walls. Gabriella wondered what these were. Munitions stores?

  The sky fighter settled to the ground so gently that its occupants felt not the slightest jar as they landed. The hastily repaired portal was opened and Kelly led the pilot out first, followed by Gabriella and Subhash. One of the men who were standing in the courtyard approached them, a distinguished gentleman of about sixty, wearing a tweed coat, his grey-haired head bared against the sea breeze. The other man drew a pistol and took the alien pilot away.

  “So this is the young woman who captured the skyfighter single-handed,” he said. “A remarkable feat. Extraordinary.”

  “Thank you, Mr. . . . ?”

  Mr. . . . “Just call Mm Sir,” Kelly said. “Sir doesn’t like to have Ms name used, in case there are spies about,”

  “I understand,” Gabriella said, shaking Sir’s hand. She wondered how he could hope to hide his identity if he owned tMs castle. Was it possible he was representing somebody else?

  “It is a pleasure to meet you, Sir,” Subhash, always the gentleman, said as if the name were perfectly normal.

  “And it is a pleasure to meet you, Mr. Subhash,” Sir replied. “We have heard much of your work in England.”

  “Thank you.”

  “It will take the rest of your men some time to get here, and so we will have a chance to get acquainted. Please follow me.”

  They passed through an archway towards the main hall of the castle, Sir informing them that the things they had brought with them would be taken care of by the servants.

  “I couldn’t help but notice those objects covered with canvas,” Gabriella said as they passed portraits of eighteenth-century lords and ladies.

  “Yes,” Sir replied. “You’ll see what’s under the canvas in due course, my dear. But right now, why don’t you freshen up a bit and ready yourselves for a good hot meal?”

  Though Sir had phrased this as a question, there was no doubt that it was really a command. He was clearly a man accustomed to giving orders and seeing them carried out. Well, Gabriella thought, he will probably show us what’s under the canvas in due time, just as he had said. If not, there was nothing she could do about it at the moment.

  A servant appeared, an old woman who led the three guests up the stairs to separate bedrooms. Gabriella found hers to have ornate Georgian trappings with an enormous mirror and a polished armoire. There was a bath attached, which she gladly made use of after all this time in the field.

  Much refreshed after her bath, she reentered the bedroom to find her bag and her few articles of clothing laid out neatly on the bed. There was iiiso a light print dress and a pair of flat-heeled shoes.

  “Sir seems to think of everything,” she said.

  She slipped into the dress, somehow not surprised to find that it was exactly the right size. The shoes were fine, too, though a bit stiff; they obviously had never been worn before.

  Closing the bedroom door behind her, she went down to the main hall, where Sir, Subhash, and Kelly were waiting for her at table. They all stood as she joined them.

  “I trust veal is to your liking, Miss Nicks,” Sir said.

  “Very much so, thank you.”

  Before the veal came lentil soup and the wine, then there was squab, and finally the main course was brought in. The conversation was polite, much small talk being made. It was hard to believe that they were all involved in a death struggle with an alien race, the meal was so pleasant and leisurely.

  A gelatin dessert was brought, and then coffee, which they lingered over for some time, chatting amiably.

  “You must all be tired,” Sir said at length. “It’s been a long day for you.”

  “That it has, Sir,” Kelly agreed. “And may I say that was one of the finest meals I have ever enjoyed.”

  “Thank you. I’ll see the young lady to her room.”

  All four of them went upstairs, Subhash and Kelly saying good-night as they went to their rooms. At her door, Gabriella thanked Sir.

  “Oh, you needn’t call me Sir,” he told her, smiling.

  “Then should I call you Lord Kramden?”

  Sir looked amused. “No, no, my dear, Lord Kramden has graciously permitted me to use this castle. It would be impossible in England, what with all the Visitor patrols mucking about, to use a castle with such high visibility. However, the enemy seems uninterested in Ireland, by and large, though they do send their skyfighters out to terrorize the populace from time to time.” “Yes, Mr. Kelly has said the same thing. He doesn’t expect that to last much longer, though.” “I’m afraid he’s quite right. We can’t depend on it, my dear. Let us hope that we have launched our attack on the buggers—please forgive my language—before they’ve caught on to what we’re up to over here.”

  “If I may not call you Sir,” Gabriella said, “and you are not Lord Kramden, then what may I call you?”

  “Why, call me Lord Smythe-Walmsley, my dear, for I was very nearly your father-in-law.”

  Chapter 19

  It took a few moments for Gabriella to stop staring and say something to Lord Smythe-Walmsley. “This is astonishing,” she finally managed to blurt out.

  “Particularly since Nigel must have surely told you I disapproved of your wedding plans. Well, that’s no longer true, Gabriella. I only wish that my boy could be with us now.”

  Lord Smythe-Walmsley’s voice broke with emotion when he said this last. Gabriella embraced him, tears starting from her eyes.

  “There, there, my girl,” the old man said. “I was such a fool. If I had met you just once, I surely would have seen what a fine young woman you are. I thought he should marry an English girl, you know. Ah, well, I was a fool about more than that. I was Parliament’s main appeaser. Advocated reasoning with the Visi-

  tors, you know. Jolly lot of good that did.”

  “I’m so sorry about Nigel,” Gabriella said.

  “Of course you are, dear. Of course you are.” Lord Smythe-Walmsley patted her shoulder as he hugged her. “We must carry on the good fight now, in Nigel’s memory.”

  “I loved him so much.”

  “So did we both. I’m only glad that his mother is no longer alive, to see what’s happened to our boy.”

  “We’ll fight them,” Gabriella said, “and we’ll beat them.”

  “With such courage as yours on our side, how can there be any doubt that we’ll be victorious?” “Thank you for saying that, Lord Smythe-Walmsley,” Gabriella said, letting go of the old man.

  “Please go on calling me Sir in the presence of the others. It isn’t that I don’t trust them, you know, but it’s been my policy since I became involved in this whole beastly business to keep my political identity separate from my resistance identity. It’s for the best, you know.”

  “I’m sure it is.”

  “However, I have a small request. I hope you won’t think me a sentimental old fool.”

  “What is your request?”

  “Only that, when we two are alone, you call me Father.”

  Gabriella found herself deeply moved. “Of course,” she said, “Father.”

  “Thank you . . . daughter.” He looked happy at that moment. “Now let us retire and dream on what it would have been like had you and Nigel married and found happiness.”

  “Thank you, Father.”

  The old man went off down the hall to bed, and Gabriella went into her room and shut the door.

  In the morning, the first of the troops arrived. As they entered the courtyard, Gabriella was pleased to see that the two Visitors were
still with them. Kelly had kept his word.

  Soon they were all assembled, and Gabriella went down to see them, along with Sir, Subhash, and Kelly. The men were murmuring until Sir stepped up before them and cleared Ms throat.

  “England and Ireland have long been at each other’s throats,” he said, “but now our two great nations face a common threat that must unite us, that points up the similarities between we two neighbors here on Earth. Now is the time to work together until the last vestige of the invader is wiped from the face of the Earth.”

  The men cheered, and then they were brought into the kitchen and fed.

  “That was an inspired speech,” Kelly said to Gabriella as they walked up steps leading to the east wall, “but I wonder if England will be so disposed towards Ireland when the war is over.”

  “It’s that kind of thinking that will make it go on longer,” Gabriella said. “We must all trust one another.”

  Kelly nodded. “Perhaps so, but it’s a difficult task to love the English after all these centuries.”

  “Well, I’m glad to see you putting aside your differences, at least for the moment.”

  “And speaking of differences,” Kelly said, “what do you propose to do with your two prisoners?”

  “My prisoners? I thought they were yours.” “You captured them, Gabriella. They’re your responsibility now.”

  “It’s just too bad we can’t let them go.” “Impossible.”

  “There have been other Visitors who have come to see our side of things. They have often come over to our side. Perhaps these fellows can be persuaded to do the same.”

  “Hmm, perhaps. Though I’ve always found that a risky way to run a war.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “I mean that a prisoner is more likely to say he’s agreeing with you than not, if he can see his way to gaining freedom.”

  Gabriella shook her windblown hair out of her eyes. “I suppose that’s true,” she said. “I’ll try to be careful.”