Demeter

by Dr. Alan D. Hansen

  “Yes,” Aster confirmed. “Open the cell. Now.”

  Winger walked forward with an ancient looking key. Cynthia and Debbie stood and moved toward the door.

  “Okay ladies, out. I’m—” Steerman’s voice cut off suddenly.

  “Just hand the weapon over to Shooter,” Aster spoke quietly, pushing the barrel of his weapon into Steerman’s back. “Nice and easy.”

  Steerman started to turn, then thought better of it. He handed his weapon to Shooter.

  “Okay, into the cell, and you can all have a happy reunion,” Aster continued.

  Steerman complied, and the door was immediately slammed, locking on its own accord.

  “So why the emergency call?” Aster asked Shooter.

  “That other girl, she got away. We’re trying to round her up, but we needed some help.”

  “Where can she go?” Aster snarled. “Never mind! Give me the key. Go on out and help them. Both of you!”

  As Winger and Shooter departed, Steerman turned, facing Aster through the cell door. “What is this? Why are you doing this?”

  Aster gave him a disdainful look. “Has it ever crossed your mind that in the next five or ten years, you could be rising to rule Demeter with the likes of her or her brother?” Aster pointed at Debbie, whose eyes grew large. “Meanwhile, with luck, I might rise to the rank of lieutenant commander, or perhaps, with your boon,” Aster growled, “I might make it to captain before I’m sixty, and finally have my own command because of a personal favor from you.”

  “I never really thought about it,” Steerman admitted. “It’s worked for two hundred years, without a problem.”

  “Not a problem for you and your families. What about for the rest of us?” Aster exploded bitterly. “Have you any idea how painful it is to see someone less competent, namely you, rise to rule over us?”

  “Rule over you? The rule of the directors is very much laissez faire,” Steerman retaliated. “My mother has told me over and over again that the directors rule at the will of the Slicks and the DDF itself. The families serve as figureheads with administrative responsibilities that rely more strongly on personality and charismatic power than by true positional power. Check out our own history. I can’t recall one time in the last two hundred years that the personal relationship resulted in any great boon to anybody. The Directors are not wealthy, although I’m not sure what wealthy would mean. Mother travels extensively, so what? It’s not a vacation! She has three large residencies, all at locations where she has to spend extended time on duty, and the bulk of the space is for security. I’ll grant my future holds different responsibilities, but with different challenges. Do you have any idea”—Steerman choked—“how hard it is to find a friend who is not after something else, how I’m alone even when I’m with people?” Steerman looked like he was about to cry. “I actually thought you were my friend. I wish I were dead.”

  “Don’t worry. Your wish is my command,” Aster mocked. “One more prize to add to the collection, and I’ll grant your boon.”

  Steerman turned toward Cynthia and Debbie. “My apologies. Apparently I’m the cause of this somehow.”

  Debbie stood open mouthed then whispered almost incoherently, “I’m going to be president?”

  Cynthia walked toward Steerman and actually hugged him. “It’s not your fault.” Then raising her voice she said, “Aster’s insane!”

  Over the next hour Cynthia received an education she had not been expecting. Steerman explained the rule by family on Demeter, and that both the Flores and Ryder heritage was deeply rooted in the history and future of this world. Debbie came out of her daze periodically, but the only thing she seemed able to say was, “I’m going to be president.”

  The third time she said it, Steerman looked at her worriedly and asked Cynthia, “Is she in shock? We saw that she had been hurt on some of the monitoring archives.”

  Cynthia actually snickered. “No. She’s been on this ‘I’m going to be president’ kick as long as I’ve known her.”

  Cynthia and Steerman turned as they heard some scuffling sounds at the far end of the chamber, indicating that someone was coming into the cavern. “I hope they didn’t find Becky,” Cynthia stated.

  Becky indeed entered the chamber first, hands bound, face bruised, and arms and legs scraped. She was followed by Miss Li, Newbold, then Winger and Shooter. Miss Li was also bound.

  “Well, it’s about time,” Aster barked at his companions.

  “We would never have found the girl if it hadn’t been for Yara,” Newbold sneered back. “She talked her out, explaining that she was here as their security.”

  “You’re such an idiot, Newbold,” Yara countered, “How else do you think I would have been able to get her to come out? If I were security, I could have stopped you anytime before the kidnapping.”

  “She makes a good point,” Aster replied.

  Winger approached to cut her loose. “No, don’t. Too many inconsistencies. Yara, I don’t know what to make of you, but I don’t trust you. Winger, put the girl in with the others. Yara, I think we need to talk a bit more.”

  Chapter 24: To The Rescue?

  Ryder stumbled over a fist-sized rock. “Shhh,” came back to him in Hondo’s baritone voice. Ryder laughed to himself as the echo of Hondo’s voice carried far behind them and made more noise than Ryder’s slip. Maybe Hondo is as nervous as I am, Ryder thought.

  There had been a tight-lipped conference between Hondo and Margaret a few minutes earlier. They seemed to be debating which of three tunnel options was the best. Ryder had been surprised that they still knew the caverns so well after sixty years. Hondo had looked smugly satisfied at that comment, but Margaret had leaned over to Ryder and whispered, “We still visit the caverns four or five times a year.”

  “Why?” Ryder whispered back.

  “We sometimes come to relive and reminisce, but more often we are looking for records of the Pervs,” Maggie whispered. “We’ve made several interesting discoveries over the years. Even a couple of surprises.”

  “Like what?” Ryder was momentarily distracted from their mission.

  Hondo looked around and glared at both of them, and Ryder realized that now was neither the time nor place for this discussion.

  Shortly after that, Hondo motioned the foursome into a huddle. “I suspect they only came into the caverns as far as Leepers Hole,” Hondo postulated. “It would make sense. It has a large, open area with two dead end passages. They probably locked the girls up in one of those areas, and I would guess the furthest of the three, mainly because it’s not really a passage at all. It only goes back about a hundred feet. The middle tunnel does weave back about four hundred yards, and if they knew what they were looking for, there is a connection between that tunnel and this one, but I doubt they’re aware of that. So, they may have one person guarding the area where the girls are. The rest are probably near the center at Table Rock.”

  “Table Rock?” Joel inquired.

  “That’s what I call it. There is a large rock table in the center of that cavern. Actually saved my life once,” he reflected. “Anyway, there is cover all around inside Leepers Hole, famous for Leepers Ambush, a battle toward the end of the Perv guerilla war. The Pervs let a whole company of Slicks into the cavern there on three different occasions. There were no survivors the first two times. They brought Terrans the third time.” Hondo bared his teeth unpleasantly.

  “So what do we do?” Ryder responded nervously.

  “Use the cover to our advantage. I’m thinking that I’ll slip in, work my way along the edge to the holding area unnoticed. Darn, I wish I’d gotten that knife back from Randy,” he said wistfully. “Anyway, if I can kill the guard, we may be able to slip the girls out unnoticed and unharmed. Margaret, you’ll provide cover fire for me against the center and follow at about twenty paces. Ryder, you and Joel guard the entry to the passage.”

  “Fool’s errand,” Margaret retorted.

  “What? It’s a gr
eat plan!” Hondo spit back.

  “It’s a great plan forty years ago, you old fool. You can’t have it both ways. You can’t play youngster at your age, even in Demeter.”

  “Harrumph!” Hondo folded his arms tightly and scowled.

  “Don’t pout,” Margaret returned. “You’ve got the right idea with the wrong bodies. You and I provide the cover fire. You stay at the mouth of the tunnel with young Joel here. I go with Ryder. He zaps the guard, and the rest is according to your plan.”

  “How about I go with Ryder?” Hondo tried to negotiate.

  “Not a chance,” Maggie challenged. “My weapon is better for close support. Semi-automatic, remember? Ten shot clip, remember? And I can pull out a clip and reload in three seconds….Don’t frown like that. Your face will get stuck that way….Your six shooter packs a lot of wallop, and the noise will scare the heck out of anybody, but it’s not the best for cover fire, and you know it!”

  Hondo turned to Ryder. “Never hook up with no woman from DDF security. They not only think they’re smarter, they usually are!” Turning back to Maggie, he confessed, “Okay, Maggie, you’re right.” In a whispered voice to them all he concluded, “Okay, lights out!”

  The four members of the rescue team continued forward slowly in darkness. With his right hand on Margaret’s shoulder, and Joel’s right hand on his shoulder, Ryder eventually saw a faint light ahead. Without a noise, they moved slower and slower, avoiding any debris in the passageway. Hondo and Joel positioned themselves at the opening of the tunnel into the large cavern, then Ryder and Margaret slipped out to the left.

  Ryder didn’t see anyone along the perimeter of the cavern, but he could hear familiar sounding voices echoing around the chamber. He was satisfied that the voices were coming from the center of the large room. He was holding his Taser in front of him, and he felt that it would have made a silly picture. He stepped up to the first opening on his left and peered in. Nothing, he thought. He could not spot a guard, which made him doubly nervous because there should be one. If he couldn’t see the guard, where was he or she? Were they above and ready to pounce?

  He arrived near the second opening, and it was barred. Crouching low, he peered inside and could see Debbie and Cynthia. Becky was in the corner, and sitting next to Cynthia at the makeshift table was Steerman. So Steerman’s the guard? That didn’t make sense. Pieces suddenly came together. It wasn’t Steerman at all, that meant it had to be—

  “Ryder, watch out,” he heard Miss Li’s voice calling from across the chamber.

  Ryder hit the floor and rolled for cover as the wall exploded above him. If Steerman’s on the inside of the cell, the leader has to be Aster. But why Aster? The connections? Steerman was one of the Steermans, he thought as the game board became clear. Ryder rolled again as another explosion hit above him and to the right. He heard small rounds cracking in quick succession from behind him. Good, Margaret was doing her job. He also heard three booming sounds from further back. Yup, Hondo wouldn’t want to be left out, he thought as he rolled yet again. Okay, Steerman was one of the Steermans, born to rule. Ryder and Debbie were two of the Ryders. Miss Li sounded a warning. Okay, that placed her on the board.

  Several loud explosions sounded behind him, then a rumbling crash. He then heard several more cracks from Margaret’s pistol. Then silence.

  Aster, spoke up. “Ryder, you might as well give up. There are six of us. We’ve sealed off your help. That leaves you and, I assume, Margaret or Colonel Roundy. How long do you think you can hold us off?”

  Ryder called out, “Six? I count four of you.”

  Another explosion sounded above his head, and he rolled back in the direction he had come. A hand came over his mouth, “You’re going to get us both killed if you don’t keep your mouth shut,” Margaret whispered desperately.

  “We’ve got to get to the cell.”

  “Why?” Margaret whispered back.

  “Haven’t you watched any old westerns? If they get to the cell, they’ll threaten to kill the girls if we don’t give ourselves up.”

  “You continue to surprise me. You truly are Steve’s grandson. Okay, I’ll get to the far side. You stick to the near side.” They rolled and crawled until they had the positions they wanted.

  From inside, the girls and Steerman had moved toward the front of the cell to see what was going on. Debbie yelled out, “Hi, Ryder!”

  Another explosion hit a rock face between Ryder and Margaret, sending rock shards in all directions. Ryder made a violent quiet motion, and then waved them all back into the darkness of their makeshift prison.

  Cynthia dragged Debbie and the others around the corner of their cell.

  Ryder was now glad he had made his decision to not stay the previous morning in the washroom. He knew the game and the pieces now. The question now was could he manuver toward a plausible win.

  Turning toward the outer wall to echo his voice and avoid too easy a targeting solution, Ryder yelled out, “Aster, I don’t see the point of all this. Obviously you’re running a ploy on your friends to suggest this has something to do with birthrights. But that makes no sense. You know too much to think that is relevant. What is it? You team up with the Pervs?”

  A blast hit off a rock to his left.

  “I figure either the Pervs or a power grab of your own.”

  Another blast hit even further off to the left.

  You’re too junior an officer to grab power. That means you have to be working for someone else. Working for someone else and playing your friends for fools?”

  Three more blast on the left still, but the nearest sent rock chips flying into his face. He then heard three quick reports from Margaret’s pistol. Someone howled in pain, and two blasts hit rocks nearly over Margaret’s head.

  “Newbold, Winger, Shooter, we know who you are. How far do you think you’ll get?”

  Aster replied for them. “Don’t worry. I was with him. He didn’t tell Major Small anything. He does not know that you conducted the kidnapping, and he does not know that I’m involved at all.

  “What about Lieutenant Pinoke? Where do you think I got the information from? Do you think she’s going to just go quietly into the night?”

  The firing stopped. “Pinoke can be controlled. I have friends”—Aster paused—“who can eliminate Lieutenant Pinoke.”

  “Did you hear that? He said control first. This is a conspiracy! Is it the Slicks in general or someone in particular, Aster?”

  Another blast shattered a rock right over Ryder’s head. A rock shard the shape of Hondo’s knife fell into Ryder’s leg. He wanted to scream, but knew if he did Aster would have him pinpointed. He knew he better say something fast. Drawing all his reserve he said, “I must be getting hot. You boys want to be part of a coup against Cryella?”

  “What’s he talking about?” came Newbold’s voice off to his right and behind where he sat.

  “He’s one of them!” Aster yelled back. “Self-proclaimed nobility. Clever with words. He’ll have you back in shackles slaving away for him and all his kind.”

  “I don’t know?” Ryder heard a wavering voice call out. Is it Winger or Shooter? he wondered

  Ryder was bleeding profusely, and he knew he wasn’t going to be with it much longer. Opening the channel to Mr. Small with his sub-computer inserted into his eye would work if he could hold them off for what, one or two hours? But he didn’t have one or two hours.

  “Another thing you should know,” Ryder called out, “is that DDF knows everything.” He put the sub-computer in projector mode off the ceiling and commanded it to replay.

  “We’ve got to kill them now!” Aster shouted. He could feel the charge, but rapid cracks from Margaret’s pistol on the one side were supported by the roar of the Colt .45 on the other.

  Good, Ryder thought. Hondo found the cross passage. He was just starting to fade when he saw the arm of someone rounding the corner in a hurry. It was Aster.

  Aster stopped and stood bolt upright w
hen he saw Ryder. He turned and pointed his still ridiculously looking small weapon at him and challenged, “At least I’ve got you!”

  Ryder pushed the button of his Taser and eighty thousand volts of electricity shot into Aster.

  Aster jerked briefly then fell head first to the rocky floor.

  Ryder wanted to pass out, but he knew he had to keep applying pressure on his leg or he would bleed to death. He just couldn’t get the nerve to pull the rock shard out. Besides, he wasn’t sure if removing the shrapnel would help or hurt.

  What seemed like an eternity, but probably less than five minutes later, Cynthia was leaning over him examining his leg. “You sure seem to find creative ways to get beat up.” She took over putting pressure on the wound.

  “Have I ever told you how pretty you are?” Ryder said.

  “Okay, now I know this is an emergency. He’s gone delirious,” Joel mocked.

  “Help us get him over to Table Rock,” Margaret said, putting Joel to work while keeping an eye on her bundled prizes. Aster was out cold on the rock floor. He had a cut that was bleeding on his head, where he had fallen. He was the last of what Hondo referred to as “dumb bandits,” as Hondo and Joel had tied the others up first.

  Margaret had managed to shoot Newbold in the leg, but the bullet had gone through cleanly. “Lousy shot,” Hondo complained “Should have hit the bone.” Winger and Shooter had surrendered even before Aster’s last rush. They were sitting back-to-back with their hands on their heads at Table Rock, waiting for them. Their weapons were on the table out of reach. Winger looked like he was ready to cry.

  Steerman and Joel carried Ryder to the table, where they scooted various debris away so that they could stretch him out more comfortably.

  Ryder felt removed from his own body as he thought, But that table is just as hard as the floor.

  The numbness left briefly, and he returned to the pain. Cynthia looked desperate. “I’m not sure what to do,” she said as she held a jacket around the wound to apply pressure. “If the rock has hit an artery and I pull it out, you’ll bleed to death before I can do anything.”