Deeper and Darker (Deep Dark Well Book 3)
Page 13
“And well. And kicking back on my ship. His own ship is gone, but we was able to pull him out of space before he joined it.”
“And your, ship? What are its capabilities?”
“If’n you mean do I have enough power to topple the government of your Empire,” she said with a cold smile. “Well, I’ve got three ships, and I don’t think they give me enough firepower to take this system. But, from what I’ve seen so far, this Empire needs to be stopped, and as soon as I have some more ships, and some bigger ones, that’s just what I’m a planning to do. But first things first. I mean to rescue Watcher.”
“The Abomination,” said Garcia. “I’m not sure he isn’t worse than the Emperor we already have.”
“Then that’s a notion you need to be disabused of,” said Pandi, narrowing her eyes. “Watcher was not responsible for his actions when he caused the fall of Galactic civilization. The man he is now is not the man he was then, when he was under control of the real villain. In fact, he and I plan to rebuild Galactic civilization, and we don’t aim to let a piss ant like this Emperor of yours to stand in our way.”
“Do not make the mistake of underestimating Kitticaris,” said Garcia, sitting up on the couch, still rubbing his wrist. “He is a most dangerous man, with a most unusual genome. Not saying you can’t take him,” he said quickly, staring at the woman who had overpowered a strong man like himself as if he were a child.
“Tell me about this Empire, about this Kitticaris, and about this organization of yours,” said Pandi, sitting next to the man. “I’ve looked over the databases of one of your warships I raided, but I would like to hear your impressions, from someone who has been there.”
They sat there and talked through the night, until the cityscape outside the window began to lighten as the orbit of the moon took it around the gas giant primary. And the more Pandi heard about the society she had come to battle, to greater grew her rage.
* * *
“What are you doing?” hissed Garcia as Pandi turned into an alley, walking quickly and waving for the man to follow. “You’re making us look suspicious.”
“Those boys have already made us,” said Pandi, looking back. “I could see it in the way they were looking at us.”
“But, how?” asked Garcia, looking back. “I’ve been doing this for a long time, and I didn’t notice anything different about them.”
But you don’t have enhanced senses, darling, thought Pandi, stopping and looking around. “This should be good enough.”
“For what?” protested Garcia. “It looks like a fucking trap to me.”
“Depends on what’s gonna get trapped,” said the woman with a smile.
“Halt,” yelled one of the pursuers, a man in a patrol officer’s uniform, black, with an armband showing an iron fist against a red field. He had a pistol on his side and a hard baton in his hand that looked like it was more than a club. The other man was dressed in civilian clothes of a dark cut, and had the cold eyes of a psychopath that glared at Pandi.
“What can I do for you gentlemen?” asked Pandi in a sultry voice, almost laughing at the caught off guard expressions of the two. Of course, I’m supposed to be terrified of you two. Not being sassy.
“You fit the description of someone we are looking for,” said the man in plain clothes, who had to be a member of the Secret Police. “Where were you last night?”
“In my lover’s arms,” said Pandi, reaching out and touching Tony on the chest and shoulder, running her hand over him suggestively.
“Your identification, please,” said the uniformed cop, pulling a small device from a pocket.
And I don’t happen to have one, sugar, thought Pandi, reaching forward with an upturned wrist that would have exposed the identichip that citizens had implanted in that spot. In another hour she would have one. Unfortunately, she didn’t have that hour. But she did have two baboons standing here in front of her ready to make trouble.
“Afraid I can’t help you, gentlemen,” she said, staring into the eyes of the one in civies. “Now, if there’s nothing else?” She started to push her way past the men.
“Are you insane, woman?” asked the plainclothes policeman, pushing her back. “You go when we tell you that you may go. And the only place either of you are going is down to the station.”
“I don’t think so,” said Pandi, glancing over at Tony and smiling as she saw the look on the man’s face. “I don’t accept your authority.”
“Then I will have to teach you to, accept my authority,” said the uniformed officer, pulling his staff back to deliver a backhand blow.
Pandi stepped inside the blow, her right hand coming across and pushing the man’s forearm away with a hard shove. She rammed her left elbow into the cop’s solar plexus, then brought her left hand up into a hammer strike to the face. The man fell to his knees, sputtering, and Pandi swirled toward the plain clothes cop, who was in the process of pulling a pistol from under his coat. She struck his wrist with a knife hand, then clamped her other hand down on the pistol and pulled it from his grip. She hit him in the face with the gun, then leaned back to bring a side kick into his stomach. As the man bent with a grunt she brought her knee up into his face.
Watcher had trained Pandi in many forms of martial arts. He had sparred with her for hundreds of hours, and she had worked thousands of subjective hours in neural simulators. She was not a practitioner of any single martial art. Instead, she had blended them until she had come up with a form that she made her own. These were men used to terrorizing others with their positions, having people cow down before them, that they could do their worst. They were small minded, sadistic men, now facing a warrior such as they couldn’t have imagined in their worst nightmares.
Pandi smashed the plain clothes cop’s face with her knee, then brought both hands together over his ears, popping the drums. He opened his mouth to scream, then gurgled as her hard fist hit his throat. With a spin she finished him, a three hundred and sixty degree backhand to his temple that carried all of her strength and speed, which shattered his temple and dropped him twitching to the ground, his nerves firing their last chorus before death.
Pandi jumped over the man and struck the uniformed cop in the back of the neck, sending him falling to the ground, his own pistol falling out of his hand. She kicked him in the ribs, then again, rolling him over till he was looking up at her. She pulled the small laser flashlight from her bag, adjusted it with her thumb, and pointed it at the man.
“You can’t do this,” said the man, his eyes wide in shock. “We’re the police. You can’t do this.”
Pandi triggered the laser, sending the invisible beam into the man’s forehead with the sputter and pop of flesh and bone burning away. The beam ate into the brain, and the policeman’s protestations stopped.
“Maybe that was once true,” she said to the blank face of the dead man. “But things are a changing.”
“You’re crazy,” said Garcia, walking up beside her and staring down at the bodies. “You just can’t kill policemen, especially secret policemen,” he said, kicking the leg of the plain clothes man.
“If I wasn’t crazy, I wouldn’t be here,” she said to the man, looking straight into his eyes. “I’m here to rescue my man, no matter what it takes. And then I’m taking the whole rotten framework of this society down, hard. You and your people will be free human beings again, or die trying. On that you have my word.”
Pandi shoved the thin cylinder of the flashlight laser back into her purse, then turned to her new partner. “I’m guessing we need to get out of here, and to your people. So, if you will lead the way.”
“Just try not to kill anyone else before we get under cover,” said Garcia, looking around for a moment, then leading the way to a sewer grate at the end of the alley.
“I’m not promising anything,” said Pandi, spitting on the body of the secret policeman. “Just keep me out of range of these bastards, and maybe I can get through the day without killing any mor
e of them.”
Chapter Eleven
Emancipate yourselves from mental slavery, none but ourselves can free our minds!
Bob Marley
“This is fucking insane,” said Jorge Hernandez, glaring at Garcia, then shifting his look to Pandi. “You want us to invade a maximum security prison, and try to release the most notorious criminal in history?”
“He is not a criminal,” said Pandi, returning the man’s glare. “And he may be your salvation.”
“Be that as it may,” said Katherine Ramirez, holding up her hands. “You want us to invade a maximum security prison, a facility guarded by hundreds of police and soldiers. And we don’t even know which one he is being kept at.”
“How many are there?” asked Pandi, wondering if she had been too optimistic about finding Watcher.
“A dozen in this region alone,” said Tony, shrugging his shoulders. “And probably some we don’t know about.”
“That many,” said Pandi, a feeling of helplessness coming over her. I won’t give up. No matter what. I didn’t come this far to give up.
“The regime locks a lot of people up,” said Freddie Santana. “Some they reprogram. Some, just disappear. And they don’t want people like us knowing where particular prisoners are kept.”
“I hadn’t thought of that,” said Pandi in a whisper. “How much time do I have before they execute him?”
“He will be put on public trial, starting tomorrow,” said Jorge, his expression showing that he thought that might be a good thing.
“And how long will the trial last?”
“Depends on how much of a show the Emperor wants to put on,” said Katherine, looking at a hand comp. “It could only take an hour. The preponderance of evidence is so heavy against your, consort. He really has no defense.”
“And is that what you think will happen?”
“No, Ms. Latham,” said Katherine, who worked as a lawyer for the very government she opposed when she wasn’t plotting its downfall. “I think the Emperor will want to use all of the evidence at his disposal, in order to show the people how effective a ruler he is. After all, if he could bring down the most vile criminal in history, he must be the greatest ruler of all time. He will compare himself to the Emperors of old.”
And these people think Watcher is a criminal as well, thought Pandi, who had to admit that the evidence of history was against him, and all she had to clear him was her word. And that just might not be enough at this time and place. Watcher can, of course, prove he is a changed man. But not in this place.
“What kind of help can you give me, if I can locate where he is being kept?”
“I am not sure we should offer any help to free that, thing,” said Jorge. “I know I will not order any of my people to risk their lives for such a being.”
“And if this is your only chance for freedom?” asked Pandi, looking at the man she gauged to be her greatest opponent at this table.
“Can you guarantee that you will be able to overthrow this government?” asked Jorge with a raised eyebrow. “I know your ships are very advanced, but you only have three of them, by your own admission. The Emperor has over four hundred ships in this system alone. I wonder if you can even get away from here once you free your friend. That’s saying, if you can free your friend.”
“And if you continue to fight this battle on your own you will most definitely lose,” said Pandi, looking from face to face, reading the doubt and fear on each one. “You can fight for a while, maybe even score a victory now and then, but over time there will be fewer and fewer of you, until this mind control nightmare takes over everything.”
“But, you won’t let that happen, right?” said Katherine, glancing over at Tony, then back to Pandi’s face. “Didn’t you say that you were setting up this, Donut thing, and getting other people on board to unite the Galaxy?”
“Maybe I did,” said Pandi, crossing her arms over her chest and pouting. “And maybe I’ll just withdraw back to the Donut, and let you people take care of your own problems. We could very well blockade this Empire, keep it from sticking its nose into other people’s business. And get on with raising the rest of the Galaxy back to where it used to be.”
“You wouldn’t” exclaimed Katherine, her eyes wide. “The suffering. It would be on your head.”
“And I don’t see it like that,” said Pandi with a cold smile. “You can blame me all you want, but if I don’t accept the guilt, your blame means nothing, at least to me.”
“Perhaps we could hold you,” said Jorge, pointing a finger at the woman. “For safekeeping, until you help us.”
“I wouldn’t suggest that, Jorge,” said Tony, a grim expression on his face.
“Why not,” said the other man. “She’s only one woman. And her people won’t try anything while we have her.”
“Tony is warning you, Jorge,” said Pandi with a smile, “because he knows I don’t need anyone to handle all of you in this room. And if you don’t believe that, I can promise that you will be the first to die if you lay a hand on me.”
Jorge started to come out of his seat, but Tony grabbed his arm and held him back. “She means it, you idiot. So check your machismo and listen.” He looked back at Pandi. “We really don’t have the people to storm a prison. But if we can get you his location, do you have the firepower to break him out.”
“I think we can do something like that.”
“You don’t know what you're talking about,” said Jorge with a sneer. “They will have more firepower than you can deal with.”
“There will be more firepower than someone can deal with,” said Pandi, shaking her head. “It just remains to be seen who that someone is.”
* * *
Watcher sat in his cell, looking at the half empty plate that had contained his breakfast. He knew he should eat more, to fuel his body, but his appetite was reduced by the stress over what was coming this day.
“They’re ready for you, Monster,” said the Guard Captain that came for him moments later. Four other guards held sonic stunners on him, making sure they could put him down without lethal force. Two other guards moved in and attached the manacles at his wrists and ankles.
Watcher thought for a moment of resisting, then stifled the urge. The only thing he would accomplish was to get stunned, and possibly to soil himself before being dragged to the place they wanted him to be anyway. He checked the manacles, noting that they were the old fashioned type with mechanical locks. No way some electronic command was going to order them to open.
“Come on,” said the Captain, stepping aside. When Watcher didn’t move fast enough to suit them one of the guards hit him in the kidneys with a rifle butt. Outside of the cell were more guards, and a line of them stretched down the corridor every ten meters.
They must think I’m the real Superman, he thought, recalling the comic hero from ages past that he had read about. An impossible character, and one that Watcher wouldn’t mind being at the moment.
They escorted him to a lift, then up through many levels until the elevator stopped, the door opened, and they exited into a large lobby. Over a hundred people waited for his arrival, many in suits, others in some kind of uniforms. All staring at him with hate on their faces.
And after what they’ve been told about me, who can blame them, thought Watcher, keeping his head up, refusing to act cowed. They just don’t understand. But maybe I can make them understand that it wasn’t really me. He laughed at that last thought, drawing angry looks from the guards, and murmurs from the crowd. They continued moving him to a set of wide double doors, which opened as they approached.
Watcher followed the first pair of guards into a large room. There were bigger chambers on the Donut, but this was a truly impressive room. It was circular, and had to have measured three hundred meters at least in diameter. Overhead was a dome, the apex at least a hundred meters above the floor. Seats were arranged in a slope much like that of a sports arena. A forty meter diameter section occupi
ed the center, with several raised boxes which had to be witness stands, as well as a larger area that he thought would be the judges’ box. Two sets of balconies ran around the room, and one large box, currently unoccupied, draped in the flags of the Fascist nation.
Cameras floated in the air, augmented by actual manned units at several locations around the room. They looked somewhat primitive to Watcher, compared to what he was used to. But they certainly seemed to do the job, as evidenced by his twenty meter tall holo in midair.
Boos and catcalls erupted as he was escorted down to the center and up the steps into one of the boxes. A guard attached the chain that linked his manacles to a ring set in a metal support in the box. The guards walked away, stopping about five meters in a circle around the box, their stunners at the ready.
“All stand for the Emperor,” shouted an amplified voice over a loudspeaker. Every member of the crowd jumped to their feet and looked toward the Imperial box, expressions of adoration on their faces as they raised their hands in the air in salute. Watcher felt very uncomfortable at the actions of these people, who all acted like mind wiped slaves. The Emperor raised his hand and waved to the crowd, then glared down at Watcher for a moment before taking his seat.
“All stand for their honors, the men who will judge the Abomination,” called out the same voice. Five men in black robes walked from the opposite entrance, while the crowd stood and bowed their heads.
Watcher stared at the faces of the men, all middle aged and above, all staring at him as they walked without a touch of compassion on their visages. Not a good sign, that announcer saying they were here to judge the Abomination. Like this is a foregone conclusion. He looked back up at the Emperor, who was talking and laughing with the other people in his box. The other Immortal looked back at Watcher for a moment, the smile still on his face. There was a smile in his eyes as well. The smile of a predator who knew he had his prey where he wanted him.
Another man stood up and walked to the other box to the left of Watcher’s. The man was dressed in a suit that screamed lawyer. His glare let Watcher know which side this man was on. “Ladies and gentlemen. Honorable Justices. We are here today to pass judgement on this creature before us.” The man pointed an accusing finger at Watcher. “I cannot call him a man. He was made to be better than other men. That project was a failure, as he turned out to be a demon. A demon, responsible for the deaths of trillions of sentient beings, and the fall of civilization, that has accounted for many hundreds of billions more since then. No other being in the history of the Galaxy is responsible for more death and misery. And I will prove, beyond a shadow of a doubt, that this creature, this Abomination, is responsible. That he is guilty of the crimes he is accused of, too many crimes to list.”