It was only a matter of a few hundred yards before they reached the spot where Adam had been struck. The lorry’s skid marks and deep ruts dug in the soft ground by the side of the road were still visible.
Karen watched Adam closely. She had half expected him to be wary about visiting the spot where the accident took place, but surprisingly, he showed no hesitation in walking over to where he’d been struck and seemed to be looking for something. Karen asked him what it was he was looking for and if he needed her help. He hesitated for a moment, all the while looking into her eyes. This was another of those critical moments for Adam; should he trust her and try to explain about the night-vision lenses, risking more questions or should he mislead her? He decided on the latter.
“I’m just looking for clues, Karen. Anything that might explain what I was doing here on that night. If I was carrying anything it might have been thrown clear on impact. I can’t see anything, however.”
He decided to distract her and pointed to a ruined, red-roofed barn several hundred yards away.
“What’s over there?” he asked, “Can we go and have a look?”
“It’s only a ruined farm no-one cares about anymore, but OK, let’s walk and I’ll show you around. It used to belong to an old couple but as they aged and couldn’t look after the place it fell into ruin. Shame really, it could have been so much more in a spot like that.”
Karen fell into step alongside him, crossing the road and walking down the gentle incline of the slip road towards the ruined farmhouse and jetty. Rounding a bend in the road, the dilapidated state of the farmhouse became clear. Next to a concrete jetty, a fisherman was unloading his boat and stacking the catch alongside a red van where a second man was carefully loading it into the rear. Although standing with his back turned to her, Karen recognised him immediately and called out.
“Afternoon Willy. How are you doing today?”
“All the better for seeing you, lass,” he replied after turning around, walking over to them and extending his hand to Adam. “Who’s this fine young man you’re with, is it your boyfriend?”
“Just a friend, Sir,” replied Adam, shaking his hand and noticing the hard calluses, rough skin and firm grip. “My name’s Adam. Good to meet you. How was today’s catch, any good?”
“So-so, Adam. I’ve had better. With that accent and tan you’re certainly not from around here, so where do you come from?” Willy asked, warming towards the stranger but being direct as usual.
Karen interrupted, not wishing to put Adam on the spot. “He’s with me Willy and staying up at the cottage for a while. You and your questions.” She quickly changed the subject before he could ask any more. “The crab and lobster were lovely, Willy, by the way. Thank you again.”
“We’ve got to get this lot over to Portree,” Willy said, gesturing towards the catch and van, “The buyer is running late and can’t make it here today, so we’ve got to go to him. No rest for the wicked.” He looked at Adam, “Nice to meet with you, enjoy your stay on Skye,” and with that nodded to Karen, winked broadly at her and went back to the van.
Karen could feel herself reddening at what the wink implied, even though nothing of the sort was going on. “Or likely to either,” she reminded herself. Unfortunately, she knew that by the end of today everyone in the village would know she had a man friend staying and there would be numerous questions to be answered when her aunt and uncle returned from their cruise. “Oh well, that’s what happens when you live in a small place and everyone knows everyone else’s business.” A low chuckle from the back of the van added to her embarrassment as she imagined Willy was probably already talking to his colleague, so she pulled at Adam’s arm and moved him away from where he had been examining the boat.
Adam felt the tug and followed its direction, even though he had wanted to stay and look over the boat. Living on the coast had its advantages and from an early age, he had been allowed to go out fishing, using the traditional boats that were allowed to catch from the sea providing it was all done by hand. Industrial methods of fishing had been stopped on Capital thousands of years previously, initially to allow marine life to recover. Subsequently, fish, along with most other sources of protein, were artificially engineered. Those that lived on the coast preferred to eat what they caught, rather than the substitutes, even though it was impossible to distinguish between real and man-made. In addition, there was always a ready market for “natural” produce, especially amongst the very wealthy who were always happy to pay a substantial premium for what they perceived to be exclusivity.
On the way back to the cottage, he became aware of a subtle change in Karen’s behaviour towards him. She was keeping a wider distance between them and her answers were more abrupt. He thought back over what he had said and done earlier but couldn’t find anything where he might have inadvertently offended her, so decided to act.
“Karen, have I done anything wrong? You seem suddenly distant and I would like to apologise if I’ve said or done anything to offend you.” He tried to look at her face but she turned away and for a moment looked down at the ground before meeting his gaze.
“It’s nothing you’ve done, Adam. Willy assumed that you and I were an item and…” Seeing Adam’s familiar look of bafflement she interrupted herself. “An item means being romantically attached to someone.”
Her face and neck began to feel uncomfortably warm, but she continued, fighting the blush she knew was coming, “And it will be all around the village by the end of the day that you are here and staying at the cottage. I just don’t feel comfortable with everyone putting two and two together and getting five, especially as I’ll get the third degree from Alastair and Flora about my love life when they get back.” Karen looked him full in the face and moved a fraction closer. “It’s nothing you’ve done Adam, I promise.”
Adam knew not to push any further, even though he still had a number of questions, but as they resumed walking again he had to ask one more.
“What’s receiving the “third degree,” Karen?”
Back at the cottage, Adam was feeling unusually tired from the walking, but despite his fatigue, forced himself to go through a routine of callisthenics which Vimes assured him would rapidly improve his fitness. He chose the empty garage attached to the house as it was out of the wind and away from prying eyes.
By the end of his workout session, Adam was near exhaustion, his pants and vest sodden with sweat. Sitting down on his haunches, Adam took a few moments to get his breath back and calm his heartbeat, before beginning a gentler warm-down to remove the build-up of lactic acid in his muscles. He knew that if wasn’t removed, tomorrow morning would bring him even more discomfort. Even without the lactic acid burn, he knew that by tomorrow there wouldn’t be a single muscle group in his body not complaining, so he wanted to make sure any damage was kept to a minimum. Once warmed down, an ice-cold shower would help the process further.
Fifteen minutes later he was in the shower, gasping out loud as the ice cold water shocked his still hot body. Karen, on hearing his involuntary gasp from where she was sitting in the kitchen, knocked on the bathroom door and asked if he was OK, then told him to present himself for a quick examination when finished.
Adam was pleased he’d managed to work out how the soap dispenser operated and was in a happier, but tired, frame of mind when he wrapped a bath towel around his hips and went to his room. He slipped on a pair of underpants and asked Vimes if there was any useful information available on the sexual customs and mores of this society. He was coming to the conclusion that relationships and matters of sex were a lot less straightforward here than he was used to back home.
His good mood suddenly vanished as he reminded himself that, for the foreseeable future this planet was going to be his home unless he was able to find a way of constructing a QA communication device from scratch. Although Vimes had downloaded a complete set of schematics for such an eventuality, the number of advanced technologies which needed to be introduce
d before this could happen was daunting. At the very least, he was going to be here for several decades and he worried about what was happening to his parents and the Empire, especially when news of his disappearance became known. The thought of his mother’s tears and his father’s private grief darkened his mood further.
A knock on the bedroom door, followed by an “Are you decent?” from Karen brought him back to the present.
“Yes Karen, I am a decent person, but I think you meant do I have clothes on? If so, then yes, my genitalia are covered.”
An explosion of laughter from outside the door followed, and Karen’s head popped around the door and looked at him. It quickly retracted and the laughter continued for a further few seconds before she walked into the room, apologising for her laughter.
“I’m sorry Adam, that was just so funny, I couldn’t help laughing at what you said.”
He smiled and shrugged his shoulders. “I think I’m getting used to the idioms now. As long as you keep making allowances and explaining I should be OK.”
Karen spent several minutes checking his body for scars or any sign of his recent catastrophic injuries. There were no scars or even residual red patches now, and to her trained eyes, his body had started to fill out again. The exercises he’d done in the garage had temporarily pumped his muscles and she realised he was physically completely healed. His memory loss, however, was different and not something she could do anything about, apart from making enquiries on the island to see if any tourists had gone missing although she was sure the local Police had already done so immediately after the accident. With that in mind, she stepped back and formally confirmed she was discharging him from her unofficial care, adding that she had made a pile of potato salad and sausages for their evening meal and he should hurry up and get dressed.
“I don’t know what they are Karen, but it sounds wonderful,” he replied, putting on a light blue shirt and the jeans he’d laid earlier on the bed.
Whilst exercising in the garage, he and Vimes had been going over his memories of the night they landed, trying to pinpoint the lifeboat to his current location. Both his tracker and night vision lenses had been lost in the accident and he hoped that if found, no-one would recognise them for what they represented. Adam’s now near perfect recall, courtesy of the union with Vimes, meant he was confident of finding his way back to the ship. There, he could replicate more money and properly equip himself for the tasks ahead, although how or where he was going to make a start were currently beyond him. Vimes had suggested that by using the pods communications equipment they might be able to bypass Government and financial institutions online security to create a fictional ID and account, but wasn’t certain of success until they tried.
A little later, sitting around the kitchen table, for now, Adam’s attention was firmly focused on the food in front of him. No stranger to real food, as opposed to the synthetic, this was something else and he was enjoying every savoury mouthful. It seemed potatoes were very versatile and featured in quite a number of culinary dishes from these isles. Capital had something similar but these were far nicer.
Sitting opposite, Karen watched him eat, all the while thinking what to do tomorrow. The food she had initially bought on the way here wouldn’t last long at the rate Adam was demolishing it, and he badly needed several more changes of clothing. Although the shops in Portree were expensive, and aimed more towards the tourists than locals, she knew of a few places where she could get him kitted out properly and at a decent price. Fortunately, she was still holding on to a sizeable sum of his money and despite trying to give it back, he seemed quite happy for her to use it as she saw fit, so tomorrow they would go shopping, followed by a scenic tour of the island. Ostensibly to help his memory, Karen needed the trip to get out and about, having been stuck at the Hospital for too long and the wide, open spaces of Skye called out to her need for space and freedom.
After dinner, Adam asked if there was Internet access and a computer he could use. Fast broadband had only been on the island for a few years and everyone lucky to be in an area that could have it had jumped at the chance to upgrade.
Alastair and Flora had a small side room set up as a home office and Karen showed him how to start up the computer and access the Internet. She wasn’t surprised when Adam showed no understanding of how the computer worked and even had to be shown how to operate the mouse. In a scene reminiscent of Captain Scott in Star Trek IV, at first he’d tried talking into it, but soon grasped the basics and began scrolling through pages. For a while, she watched what he was looking at, but then lost interest and poured herself a glass of wine, then walked over to sit by the picture window overlooking the loch. At this time of year it became dark relatively early, so she made herself comfortable whilst relaxing as the twilight deepened and the sky turned a deep red before the sun dropped below the horizon.
“Red sky at night, shepherds delight,” she thought to herself, taking another sip of red wine before crossing her legs and letting herself relax. All she could hear in the absolute silence was the faint tippity-tap of keyboard keys coming from the other room.
Scene 29, Dauntless
Alexander was allowing Vimes to handle all the incoming data feeds and damage reports, only allowing through messages from Admiral Frith. He was glad of the support and protection of his suit, for Dauntless was taking a constant pounding. Whenever her shields became temporarily overloaded, a slug or missile would get through to the armoured hull, rocking the huge ship and gouging deep holes in her armour. Under these circumstances, an unarmoured stumble at two-G could easily become a bad fall, possibly resulting in broken bones or severe bruising, not something anyone would want prior to possible combat. Shortly after arriving at the Marines practice hall, the hanger below his private quarters containing his last two private yachts had taken a direct hit, with the resulting blast damage severely damaging his suite of rooms, making Alexander very glad he’d taken the chance to mingle with his Bodyguard.
As usual, his bodyguards were quietly going on about their business, checking each other’s armour or watching the battles progress on their own screens. The air of calm was belied by the palpable tension everyone in the room felt that heightened whenever the ship was jolted by an unusually large explosion or blow.
He walked around the large hall, chatting and laughing with the Marines, making an effort to appear blasé about what was happening outside, but they all knew he cared deeply about the fate of his people in the fleet and was simply putting on a show for their benefit.
Inwardly, Alexander was finding it very difficult not to intervene in the battle plan or even stay away from the Bridge, but he knew that it would serve little purpose other than make him feel better. Admiral Frith was a far better military tactician and he knew she would perform better without him getting in the way. He would just have to wait it out with everyone else, but the habit of being in charge was a hard one to break, especially in times of stress. Alexander’s anger levels had been steadily rising since the incident at Heaven and it was now a constant inner battle not to let rip in public. He’d been pounding the practice battle droids in the privacy of his quarters and had already destroyed three of the four available on board, so had been unable to fully vent his anger for several days now. Despite heroic work-outs, he wanted nothing more at this moment then to let out his frustration on the enemy.
On the Bridge, Frith was monitoring events on INS Glorious. The carriers’ shields had finally firmed some time ago, but the damage she had taken during that time was considerable. Swarms of missiles and slugs had severely damaged three of her four hangers and now both the main carrier body and remaining hanger were having trouble holding position with the fleet, each having sustained heavy damage to their engines. The three severely damaged hanger sections were now incapable of being released from the main body and whilst they provided a measure of additional protection to the main hull, were doing nothing to help Glorious maintain position with the fleet. A few shutt
les had tried to ferry crew away from the remaining hanger back to the main ship, which had earlier followed Captain Woods example and detached, but had been easily picked off by missiles. It was apparent anyone on board would have to take their chances, either staying and fighting on or risking an escape pod. Whatever they chose, their chances of survival were not good and diminishing rapidly as the rest of the fleet accelerated away and they fell behind.
She smiled grimly, proud of the fight her ships were putting up against such uneven odds. INS Rodney and Repulse, the two older battleships protecting the rear of Captain Woods force, were successfully managing to draw fire away from their carrier, despite taking heavy damage in the process. The heavily armoured sections, containing engines and main guns, were still holding out, however, much of the ship's superstructure and less important areas were open to space and venting air into the unforgiving vacuum through the great rents and holes that peppered their hulls.
The images of the two Captains, Singh and Haynes, appeared in front of her, requesting immediate attention.
“Go ahead gentlemen, I’m listening,” she said, acknowledging both men with a nod.
Haynes began. “Admiral, Captain Singh and I want your permission to fall back and engage the enemy directly. Captain Woods is in agreement too. It’s only a matter of time before we are dead in space, for our rear armour is almost gone and our engines will be left vulnerable if we don’t present another face. By turning around and heading straight towards them we present our heavily armoured prows, which are currently relatively undamaged.”
Imperium: Betrayal: Book One in the Imperium Trilogy Page 26
