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Web of Fire Bind-up

Page 39

by Steve Voake


  ‘Who?’ asked Skipper.

  ‘Her,’ said Sam. ‘Over there.’

  Skipper followed Sam’s gaze and stared at Alya for a few seconds before suddenly letting out a loud squeal. Then, to Sam’s amazement, she ran across to where Alya was standing and proceeded to fling her arms around her. Sam could hear the sound of their happy, excited voices floating back to him through the cold air and he watched in stunned silence as Skipper pulled out her knife and cut through Alya’s plasticuffs. Then, arm in arm, they walked back across the melting snow towards him.

  As he watched them approach, Sam’s anger intensified with every step that they took until, when they were only a short way off, he could contain himself no longer.

  ‘Skipper!’ he shouted. ‘What do you think you’re doing? Do you have any idea who that is?’

  ‘Yes, of course,’ replied Skipper evenly. ‘It’s Alya.’

  ‘That’s right,’ said Sam, staring angrily at the two of them. ‘It’s Alya. The one who betrayed me. The one who tried to kill us all!’

  Skipper shook her head. ‘No, Sam,’ she said gently, ‘don’t you see? It was Alya who saved you.’

  Twenty-five

  After a short debriefing session with Vahlzian Intelligence officers, where he told them everything he could remember about the layout of the Vermian Military Airbase, Sam made his way past lines of prisoners to the officers’ mess where he found Skipper and Alya sitting at a table, sipping from mugs of steaming hot chocolate. While Skipper went to fetch him a cup, Sam stared at Alya in disbelief.

  ‘I know what you’re thinking,’ she said after a while. ‘But you know, things aren’t always as they seem.’

  ‘I just don’t get it,’ he said. ‘If you were trying to help us, then why did you tell Krazni the location of the Resistance base?’

  Alya sighed and as she pushed back her hair with one hand, Sam noticed how the ends had shrivelled in the heat of the fire.

  ‘Believe me, Sam, that was never the original plan.’

  ‘So what happened?’

  ‘Well… once you’d told me where the airbase was, I flew out to Vahlzi on the pretext of checking over the ant squadrons. I knew some of them were still infected so it was the perfect cover, no questions asked. Once I got to Vahlzi, I was able to make contact with the Resistance people and tell them what I knew. They were suspicious at first, but once I told them all about you and showed them that I knew the exact co-ordinates of the airbase, they began to take me seriously. Next thing I knew, they had bundled me into the back of a stolen beetle and brought me here.’

  ‘And that’s how we first met,’ said Skipper as she sat down again and passed Sam a mug of hot chocolate. ‘But let’s just go back a bit. After I left you in the forest, I saw the robber fly arrive and guessed it had probably come looking for us. But as I was halfway up the tree, there wasn’t much I could do about it. When I got back and found you gone, I realised they must have taken you away. But I knew you would have tried to leave the egg, so I searched around and found it pretty quickly. My main priority was then to get it back here so that the engineers could develop the hornets as fast as possible. The idea was that if we could get them quickly enough, we might be able to stage a surprise raid on the prison and get you out of there. But then Alya turned up.’

  ‘Yes, and by the time I got here, the hornets were almost ready,’ Alya went on. ‘The engineers had used a new heating process to speed up the hornets’ development and the results were incredible. As soon as I saw them I thought they had an excellent chance of pulling off a successful raid. I knew the layout of the prison and I was able to give Skipper and the others a detailed plan of where they were keeping you and Commander Firebrand. It was all looking very promising.’

  ‘Problem was,’ said Skipper, ‘one of our operatives from Vahlzi then turned up with news of some radio transmissions they had intercepted. Apparently Alya had been seen “talking to known Vahlzian sympathisers” and was now officially reported as missing. We realised then that her cover was blown. We knew that if she returned to Vermia, Krazni’s secret police would be on to her.’

  Sam turned to Alya. ‘So why did you go back?’

  ‘I knew it was risky,’ said Alya, ‘but when I actually thought about it logically, I realised it was our best chance of success.’

  ‘How come?’

  ‘I guessed Krazni would be waiting for me, so with Skipper’s help I took pictures of the area surrounding the airbase. Then when I got back, I was able to tell Krazni that I had tricked you into telling me the location of the airbase and that I had gone to check that the information was correct before bothering anyone with it. I was then able to show him the photographs. But I knew he was still suspicious, so then I had to play my trump card.’

  ‘Which was?’ asked Sam.

  ‘To make Krazni believe that I had betrayed you. Unfortunately, in order for it to appear convincing, I had to make you believe it too. I’m sorry about that, Sam. If it’s any consolation, I felt dreadful about it.’

  ‘I still don’t understand why you had to come back,’ said Sam.

  Alya shrugged. ‘Two reasons, really: one, to set the trap; two, to get you and the Commander out. You see, I knew that once they had swallowed the other stuff, it would be relatively easy to convince them that they needed your eye and fingerprint scan to get into the secure areas. And knowing Krazni as I do, I knew he wouldn’t be able to resist bringing Firebrand along and showing him what he assumed would be the final destruction of his forces.’

  ‘So the trap was set,’ said Skipper. ‘Before Alya left, we agreed that she would try and persuade the Vermian Council to put together a large force of robber flies to attack the base. For our part, we arranged to put our wasp squadron out on the mountaintop in order to lure as many robber flies down as we could. And then, when they had all landed, we unleashed the hornets.’ She grinned. ‘It worked like a charm!’

  ‘So there you have it,’ said Alya. ‘The story so far.’

  ‘How we stuck it to Mad Major Krazni,’ added Skipper helpfully, ‘by Alya Blin.’

  Alya smiled and held her hand up in the air for Skipper to smack. ‘Read it and weep, Major,’ she said. ‘Read it and weep.’

  ‘I don’t know what to say,’ said Sam. ‘I’m so sorry, Alya.’

  Alya looked at him in surprise.

  ‘Whatever for, Sam?’

  ‘You know. For not believing in you. For thinking you were betraying me, when you were saving my life.’

  ‘No, Sam,’ said Alya, suddenly serious again. ‘I’m the one who should apologise. That was a horrible thing that I had to do. And anyway,’ she added, ‘despite everything you’ve been through, you still managed to save me from a fire this afternoon. So I guess that pretty much makes us even, doesn’t it?’

  Sam rested his chin on his hand and wondered at the courage of this brave young woman who had risked her life to save them all.

  ‘Yeah,’ he said with a smile, ‘I guess it does.’

  He lifted his mug of hot chocolate and held it up above the table. Skipper clinked her own mug against it. ‘Here’s to sticking it to the rest of ’em,’ she said. Then they all clinked their mugs together and Alya beamed happily.

  ‘I’ll drink to that,’ she said.

  ‘Hey, get off me,’ said Sergeant Brindle, unable to keep the smile from his lips – lips that were not generally accustomed to such undisciplined shows of emotion. ‘You don’t know where I’ve been.’

  ‘Oh, but I do,’ said Skipper, releasing the burly sergeant from an enthusiastic hug. ‘You’ve been hiking through blizzards haven’t you?’

  ‘Blizzards?’ said Brindle dismissively, a small pool of melting snow forming around his boots. ‘Couple of flurries maybe. Nothing to write home about.’

  Firebrand, who had now resumed overall command of operations, stared doubtfully at Brindle’s soaking wet clothes and glacier-blue face.

  ‘Maybe you should go and warm up, get yourself
something to eat,’ he suggested.

  ‘Maybe later, sir. First I would like to acquaint myself with the current situation if that’s all right, sir. And may I also say, sir, that is good to see you again.’

  Firebrand smiled. ‘Likewise, Sergeant. Likewise.’

  Sam couldn’t help but be impressed. He had last seen Brindle bailing out of his wasp into a frozen wilderness. Now here he was several weeks later, having trekked several hundred miles in sub-zero temperatures, refusing all offers of comfort in his impatience to get on with the next phase of the operation. Sam was reminded of an experiment he had once carried out in science where you had to sort materials in order of their hardness. Chalk, sandstone, granite, diamond… Brindle.

  He would have topped the list every time.

  They took their seats in the small Operations Meeting Room and Firebrand stood up at the front to address them. Although he looked older and thinner than he had done during the last campaign, there was no doubt that the Commander had got his old fire back again. Sam could see it in his eyes; the passion and determination were clear for all to see as he paced the room, listening intently to Alya’s report on the latest developments in Vermia.

  ‘Tell us about these worms,’ he said, ‘how do they kill people on Earth?’

  ‘They don’t,’ said Alya. ‘Not directly, anyway. The plan is, the worms – or flukes to be completely accurate – will affect the behaviour of certain people in such a way that they will then kill everyone themselves.’

  ‘I don’t understand,’ said Firebrand, impatient to find out what he was dealing with. ‘Explain?’

  ‘Well, research revealed that a certain species of parasitic worm – toxoplasma gondii – was infecting millions of people on Earth as part of a natural cycle that already existed. It was able to affect people’s behaviour by finding its way into their brains and influencing their thought patterns. Then I noticed that worms and humans had the same impulse translators.’

  Firebrand frowned. ‘They had what?’

  ‘The impulse translator. It’s a tiny piece of neurological material that allows a worm to transfer its own desires to the brain of its host. It’s a bit like downloading a program into a computer. Once it’s in there, the computer can do different things. Same thing with people. All we had to do was write a program compatible with the worm’s neurological structure and then the worm would go off and “download” it into whoever we chose. And then, effectively, we could make people do whatever we wanted them to do.’

  ‘And it works?’ asked Firebrand incredulously.

  ‘Oh, it works all right,’ said Alya. ‘And that’s the reason we haven’t got much time.’

  ‘But how does Odoursin plan to infect every single human with these worms?’ interrupted Skipper. ‘Surely that’s impossible, isn’t it?’

  ‘Ah, but he doesn’t need to,’ explained Alya. ‘If you target the right people, then you can just stand back and let them do the rest. And that’s exactly what the Vermian Strategic Command are doing.’

  Firebrand was looking more and more worried by the minute. ‘So who exactly are they targeting?’

  ‘Defence staff working at nuclear weapon sites across the United States,’ said Alya. ‘Plus key personnel in the command and control structure. The plan is to use parasites to trick these personnel into believing that they are under attack from nuclear weapons. They will believe that the only course of action left open to them is to launch a massive retaliatory strike against the countries responsible. Which, in turn, will trigger a huge nuclear response from those countries. Billions of people will die, and those who survive will have little fight left in them. Stage two of Odoursin’s plan is then to effectively enslave survivors by gradually and methodically infecting them with more parasites. These parasites will be programmed to create various other desires in people – desires which will be useful to the Vermian regime.’

  ‘What sort of desires?’ asked Sam.

  ‘Oh I don’t know – decontaminating areas hit by nuclear weapons, cleaning up other sources of pollution on the planet, that sort of thing. But ultimately, people will be programmed to hunt each other down. It’s horrific when you think about it. Odoursin intends to use any survivors first as slaves, and then as executioners.’

  ‘How are they getting these programmed parasites into humans?’ asked Skipper.

  ‘InRaD came up with the tsetse fly as a solution,’ explained Alya. ‘They’d already been working on a prototype which was fast, manoeuvrable and already equipped to carry similar parasites.’

  ‘Why didn’t they use mosquitoes again?’ Sam asked.

  ‘Not compatible with these particular parasites,’ replied Alya. ‘Same with horseflies. Whereas the tsetse fly was ready almost straight out of the crate. It only needed minimal re-engineering to its salivary glands and then it was good to go.’

  ‘All right,’ said Firebrand. ‘Like you say, we haven’t got much time. My guess is that Odoursin will already be planning a retaliatory strike against us, so I’ve got a squadron of hornets on standby, ready to intercept it when it comes. In the meantime I suggest we mobilise another full squadron as soon as possible, attack the hangars where the tsetse flies are kept and then take out the parasite labs. Can you draw up a plan for us, Alya?’

  Alya shook her head. ‘I’m afraid it’s too late for that,’ she said. ‘Tsetse flies started hitting their targets weeks ago. Chances are they’ll all be infected by now. The parasites will have been programmed to lie dormant in the brains of their hosts until the next cycle of the moon. The change in biorhythms will then trigger them all into action at the same time. They will start transferring their thought patterns into their human hosts and that will be all it takes to start a nuclear war.’

  Firebrand looked at her in horror.

  ‘But the next cycle of the moon is tomorrow night!’ he cried. ‘Surely there must be something we can do?’

  Alya nodded. ‘There is, but it’s a bit of a long shot.’

  ‘Let’s hear it,’ said Firebrand.

  ‘OK,’ said Alya. ‘The thing is, there’s a set procedure that has to be followed before any weapons can be launched. Understandably, the possibility of some nutcase deciding to crack off a few nuclear bombs is one that governments are fairly keen to avoid.’

  ‘Understandably,’ said Skipper. ‘Sorry, go on.’

  ‘So the procedure goes something like this: a defence system identifies a threat, the threat is checked with other defence systems and, if it is confirmed, then the nuclear weapons facilities are put on red alert. In other words, they start preparing for a retaliatory strike. But they can’t carry out any strike until it has been authorised by their Commander-in-Chief, the President of the United States.

  ‘Now I happen to know that they’ve been having big problems infecting the President. The guy wears thick suits, hates insects and has bug screens on all his windows. He’s the only one with the launch codes, and if they don’t infect him then there’s no nuclear war. If we can fly a bunch of hornets there soon enough, we might have a chance of taking out the tsetses before they can get to him. Like I said, it’s a long shot, but it’s all we’ve got.’

  ‘I’m in,’ said Skipper, ‘definitely.’

  She thought for a moment and then said, ‘But what if they’ve already infected him? What then?’

  Alya stared at the floor and then shut her eyes, as if the enormity of what she had helped to cause was too much for her to bear.

  ‘Odoursin will have won,’ she said at last, ‘and it will be the end of everything.’

  Twenty-six

  It was five in the morning and Martock could sense the tension among the assembled Council members as they stood around the long, rectangular table, awaiting Odoursin’s arrival. They all knew that, in the years since his accident, Odoursin had found it difficult to sleep due to the pain from his burns. It was likely, therefore, that his personal physician would have given him a sleeping draught only hours before.
r />   Given his increasing unpredictability, waking him was certainly not a decision to be taken lightly. On this occasion, however, the Council had come to the conclusion that it could not be avoided.

  The news, it seemed, was spectacularly bad.

  An attempt to destroy the Vahlzian Resistance base had ended in complete disaster, with two squadrons of robber flies wiped out and enemy hornets now controlling the skies over Vahlzi.

  Reports were coming in that organised groups of Resistance fighters had already overrun several positions on the eastern side of the city.

  It didn’t take a genius to work out that unless Odoursin gave his permission to postpone the attack on Earth and divert all forces back to the west, there was a very real danger that Vahlzi would be retaken by enemy forces.

  And if that happened, Vermia would be next on their list.

  But would Odoursin listen? Martock knew that he was obsessed with the destruction of human life on Earth, and anything that stood in the way of that was unlikely to go down well. Add to this the fact that Odoursin would have had very little sleep, and the prospect of a positive meeting was not looking good.

  A hush fell upon the Council as the door of the bunker swung open and Odoursin strode to the head of the table, fury simmering just beneath the surface of his blanched, twisted features. As his eyes narrowed into fiery slits of rage, he stared around the room and hissed, ‘Who is responsible for waking me at this hour?’

  When it became obvious that no one was going to answer, Martock cleared his throat and said, ‘I am sorry, Your Excellency. But the Council felt that you should be informed of the latest developments.’

  ‘I see,’ said Odoursin icily, ‘so you are saying that everyone is to blame.’ He glared angrily at Martock until he dropped his gaze and then said, ‘Well? What is this important news that could not wait?’

  Realising that by breaking the silence he had unwittingly elected himself as spokesman, Martock swallowed nervously and turned to address the Emperor once more.

 

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