by Jaleta Clegg
He nodded at the pilot. The man closed the door behind him as he returned to the cockpit. Lowell glanced at Paltronis.
She shook her head, putting the earpiece back down. "Nothing on any channel that I can pick up." She frowned. "I don't like this."
"Neither do I. We don't have a choice, though." He unbuckled himself and stood, stretching out kinks in his back.
Paltronis was right behind him as he opened the hatch. A gust of cold wind blew rain in on them. No one met them on the landing field. The Patrol emblem glowed on a building at least a quarter of a mile away. Rain spattered the plascrete field between them.
"What time of day was it again?" Lowell asked.
"Middle of the night, local planet time."
"Shall we go wake someone up?"
He stepped into the rain, Paltronis right on his heels. They hurried across the empty field. A merchant in a berth on the far side of the field unloaded cargo, lights from the open warehouse door reflecting in the puddles on the plascrete field.
They were both soaked by the time they reached the Patrol compound. The pilots of his shuttle had wisely stayed behind. Lowell punched a code into the door panel. It hummed for a minute before blinking green. The door clicked. He pushed it open and walked in.
The lights flickered on automatically when the door opened. The building was small and very outdated. The reception area was only a tiny room with a battered desk and two chairs. Stuffing leaked from a rip in one chair.
Lowell leaned over the desk and tapped the comp controls. The screen set into the desk lit up. It blinked a standby message.
"Anyone home?" Lowell called.
A door shut somewhere down the back hallway. He heard steps hurrying towards them. Lowell planted himself in the middle of the room and waited.
The base commander entered. His uniform was unfastened down the front, showing his undershirt. His hair stuck up. He looked as if he had just woken up. He saw Lowell, glanced at his insignia, then stopped. He hastily saluted.
"As you were," Lowell said. "At least mostly as you were."
"I'm sorry, Admiral," the man said. "No one notified me you were coming."
"Is it your policy to leave the desk unmanned?"
"We're short on staff. And nothing much happens here. At least not at the base."
Lowell cocked his head, studying the base commander. "How many staff do you have?"
"Seventeen." The base commander ran his hand through his hair. It looked neater when he finished. "Ten of them are maintenance staff. Four more are crew for the one messenger ship they leave here. The other two are my personal aides." He yawned. "I can't put an engineer at the desk and I need my aides during daylight hours. Sir," he added belatedly. He looked as if he expected a reprimand and resented it.
"I was under the impression you had a full staff," Lowell said instead. "A minimum of fifty, including security."
The base commander shook his head. "There haven't been that many since before I was posted here three years ago."
"Do you have somewhere more comfortable where you can tell me about it?" Lowell asked.
"The common room is down this way." He led them partway down the hall. He opened a door and flipped on a light.
The room was fairly large. Three small round tables were scattered across the floor, looking lost in the space. A single row of battered cabinets with a counter lined one wall. The fibermat on the floor was stained and worn.
"We don't have much," the base commander said, a belligerent apology. "We mostly eat ship rations. Tivor doesn't offer much in the way of luxuries."
"Water will be fine, I'm more interested in your report than in eating." Lowell smiled at the commander, his most charming look.
The commander nodded. He rummaged in a cupboard. Lowell took a seat at the closest table. Paltronis wandered to the far wall, peering out the windows at the rain. Lowell knew she was really checking security. She was the best there was at assessing it, one reason he kept her close.
The commander crossed to the table. He put two chipped glasses on the table and poured water from a battered pitcher.
"Sit, commander," Lowell invited him. "Sirle Harouk, isn't it?"
"Sir," Commander Harouk said stiffly, staying on his feet.
"Admiral Lowell," Lowell said. "But you can call me Grant. I don't see the need to be formal."
Harouk studied him suspiciously. "What do you really want here, Admiral?"
"Information." Lowell sipped the glass of water. "If you don't want to be that informal, call me Lowell instead."
"What information?" Harouk dropped into a chair, then planted his elbows on the table. "Months go by and we barely get a supply ship in. Then you show up in the middle of the night. We've been ignored for years. Why the interest now? The Patrol doesn't care about this base. It was obsolete a decade ago."
"Possibly true. Tivor is about to become much more important."
"Why?"
"You haven't heard the news?"
Commander Harouk shrugged. "We hear some news. Usually a month late. Why are you here, Admiral? You aren't just conducting a surprise inspection."
"No, I'm here because Tivor has become very important to the Empire." Lowell sat back in his chair, watching the other man. "Tivor is in a strategically necessary position."
Harouk narrowed his eyes. "The Empire is being invaded? I find that hard to believe."
"Three months ago an entire battle group defected. Most of the crews were native to the outer areas of this sector. If Tivor joins them, the Empire loses more than half the sector and part of another."
"To what?" Harouk looked puzzled. "There's nothing that direction. Except Trythia. I heard rumors of that place. I thought the threat was nullified."
"It was. The Federation is growing. Tivor is necessary to keep them at bay."
"The Federation? Pirates?"
"Not anymore." Lowell sipped the metallic water.
"They're building an invasion fleet of our own Patrol ships?"
"I don't know," Lowell admitted. "I'm here because the Empire can't afford to have Tivor join the Federation. I've lost contact with the agents here. I came to find out what you know. And offer what help I can."
Harouk picked up the other glass and drank half of it. "Agents. Spies. Just what Tivor doesn't need more of." He shook his head. "The government publicly executed one of your agents three months ago. I haven't heard anything from any of the others."
"What is the situation here? It can't be good."
"Tivor is ready to collapse. The government keeps cracking down on the people, confiscating everything they can. Food is short, especially in the cities. Every few weeks, they round up random people off the street and send them out to work farms. Slave labor, to be blunt. They've shut down anything not government controlled. All public gathering places are closed. Restaurants, stores, everything. The only store still open is the one the government runs. People have to line up and show ration cards to get any food, one reason we're reduced to eating ship rations here. Which are getting low, by the way."
"Tell me about the work farms."
"Mennis was sent to one two months back. I haven't heard from him since. He's the only agent who reported regularly." He paused, marking rings on the table with his glass. "The work farms are reached only by rail, the government shut down any other form of transportation. I've heard rumors of escapes and villages hidden in the mountains, but nothing concrete. The government closed the datanet six months ago. No information gets in or out now. It's a miracle that Mennis got as many messages to me as he did."
Lowell wanted to swear. This was much worse than his sources had indicated. His information net was full of holes.
"I sent another agent over a week ago. Has she made contact?"
Harouk shook his head. "I've heard nothing. Except a rumor that the planetary governor wants the Patrol out. I've been summoned to a meeting. I refuse to step foot out of the base, though. They aren't happy with my stalling."
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"I'll go." Lowell was acutely aware of Paltronis' sudden attention. She would argue it was a bad idea. He wasn't going to listen.
"And say what, sir?" Harouk asked. "It may be insolent of me to question you, but frankly, sir, you don't know the situation here or the people."
"I know better than you think."
"There's a group, they call themselves the visionary revolutionists. The government calls them traitors. There's another group called the underground resistance movement. And another one, known only as the rebellion. They have people on the inside in the government."
"How do you know all this?"
"Mennis' last report, mostly, and a whole stack of letters that keep showing up shoved through windows and hidden in supply cartons. Signed by someone called Shadowing."
Lowell raised one eyebrow.
"Make of it what you want, I'll let you read them. There's enough truth buried in the diatribes against injustice that I believe the source." Harouk picked up the glass and stared at the water inside. "Civil war is brewing. It's just a matter of time. And you talking to the governor isn't going to do anything to calm it back down."
"Good," Lowell said.
"Good? What do you mean by that?" Harouk demanded. "Sir," he added.
"Forget the sir. I appreciate your honesty. And your candor." Lowell leaned forward over the table. "I want Tivor to become so unstable that the Patrol can justify moving in to restore order. It's the only way to guarantee that Tivor stays under Imperial control."
"You're serious.”
"Completely."
"And what of the agent you sent in?"
"She was sent here with orders to make the situation more unstable. She's supposed to start the civil war."
"Then she's as good as dead."
Lowell shook his head. "She's a native of Tivor. She'll survive."
"You have a lot of confidence in her."
Lowell merely smiled, cold and hard.
"What do you want of me? Am I relieved of command?" Harouk asked.
"Quite the contrary. I want you to stay here and keep me informed. I want it to look like business as usual. I'm only visiting on a surprise inspection and wish to pay my respects to the governor."
"If you're thinking of sending your aide out looking for your agent, forget it," Harouk said. "There's nothing you can do for her. If she's in the city, she's beyond your reach."
"I'm beginning to understand why an officer of your caliber was assigned here," Lowell said. "Learn to keep your mouth shut and you'll do better."
"And watch you make stupid mistakes? I've been blamed for that before, too. No, I was posted to Tivor because I had the wrong attitude. Sir."
Lowell laughed, a bright happy sound. "I like you, Harouk, I really do. Would you consider a transfer? After we start a war, of course."
Harouk frowned. "I'll think about it."
"What shape is your messenger ship in?" Lowell asked, changing the subject.
"With a full squad of engineers with nothing else to do, it's better maintained than any other ship in the Patrol."
"Good."
"Why, if I may ask?" Harouk's tone was just short of outright insolence.
"Because I may need it. The Seeker is in orbit and will stay as long as I'm here. You won't be left without support."
"What a change," Harouk said sarcastically.
"I'll even put in a word with the captain about getting you fresh supplies."
"You're too generous."
"Don't push me."
Harouk bit back his next comment.
"What state is your armory in?"
"Wouldn't you rather just make a full inspection?"
"No, I'd rather you tell me so I can let you get back to sleep. I can inspect tomorrow. I want to meet your people, but I see no reason to wake them up. I would prefer to do this with your cooperation, Commander. But if you are unwilling to give it, I will have you arrested and confined to the brig on the Seeker. Do I make myself clear?"
"Very."
Lowell stared him down for a moment longer.
"What state is your armory in?"
"We have a dozen blasters, less than a case of recharge packs, and ten stunners still operational. The base force field should still work. It hasn't been used since it was installed twenty years ago."
Lowell tugged his lip. It wasn't nearly enough for him to feel comfortable. Paltronis personally carried almost half that number of weapons as a matter of course. But even a full ground assault troop wouldn't have been enough. He would just have to be sneaky. He sighed. "I can have some personnel assigned to the base from the ship, at least enough to protect it. I want the force shield tested."
"We can't do that without breaking the agreement the Patrol made to the planetary government. That's why it's never been turned on." Harouk leaned back and folded his arms across his chest. He smothered a yawn.
Lowell glanced at Paltronis. She stood, seemingly relaxed, by the door. She nodded once. He looked back at Harouk.
Harouk smiled, a wry twist of his lips. "She won't last a day in the city, not without papers. And even then her accent will give her away the minute she opens her mouth."
"Which is why I'm not sending her into Milaga after my agent. How soon can your messenger ship lift?"
Harouk didn't like his question. Lowell raised one hand.
"Before you say something you'll regret later, I only want to borrow it for a week or so. And if you were going to evacuate the base using it, you'd still have to leave most of your people behind. It can only take six, am I right?"
"Twelve if we load it right," Harouk admitted.
"You aren't going to abandon Tivor," Lowell said. "It's too important. We'll have complete backup here within two months. Including full ground support."
"You're going to take over the planet. Isn't that against Patrol policy?"
"Not if the planet is in chaos and the High Command decides it's vital to the security of the Empire."
"The High Command cares about Tivor?" Harouk shook his head, disbelieving.
"I'm here with the full authority of the High Command. And yes, Tivor is that important." He saw no need to reveal that he was actually part of the High Command, his own orders and authority calling in the ships.
"The ship can lift in the morning," Harouk said, giving in.
"Commander Paltronis will be on it."
"To do what?"
"Whatever I order her to do," Lowell said with an edge to his voice.
Harouk was sharper than most. He stood and saluted. "Beg permission to return to sleep, sir?"
"Be my guest, Commander Harouk."
Harouk snapped his salute and left the room. The door clicked shut behind him.
"He's going to be trouble," Paltronis commented.
"Not if I can handle him right. Am I losing my touch?"
Paltronis wisely left that question unanswered. "Where do you want me to go?" she asked instead.
"I want you to fetch Scholar. You'll have to find a way onto the planet. I want you to find Dace and get her out in one piece."
"Before or after she starts a war?"
"It's going to start anyway. I shouldn't have sent her."
"Then why did you?"
"Because I was given no other choice."
"She wants to die. She won't care if she doesn't survive this."
"Which is one reason I sent her. She has to choose to live."
"I could hate you, if I didn't know you so well."
"I'm beginning to hate myself. Get Scholar to help find Dace for me. Convince her she wants to live." His face betrayed only a deep sadness. "Scholar is the only one I still fully trust, besides you."
"He won't be much good here, Lowell."
"He's all I have left."
She nodded her acceptance of his orders.
He put his head in his hands, leaning his elbows on the table. "Where did it go wrong? What mistakes did I make?"
Paltronis said nothing. She
only watched him brood while the rain fell outside in the night.
Chapter 8
I shivered my way out of another nightmare. My hands were numb from the ropes around my wrists. I tried to shift my feet to a more comfortable position. The ropes were not tight enough to make my feet numb, but they made it awkward to do anything but lie on the cold floor. Sitting hurt after only a few minutes.
They untied me only long enough to feed me and that wasn't often. I heard people walk past, outside my door, but few ever stopped in. I had no idea what was happening.
I was cold. It was always cold in the room. I pulled my knees up and leaned forward, resting my cheek on one. I tried to flex the cramps out of my arms.
I was as good as dead. Wasn't that what I wanted? I closed my eyes. I couldn't help prodding the pain inside. Tayvis was dead. That fact colored everything else. Jasyn and Clark would be better off without me. All I ever brought Jasyn was trouble. At least she and Clark were well out of this mess.
The door opened. I didn't bother to even look. I heard a tray clatter onto the floor. Someone tugged my wrists. The ropes came off. I sat, rubbing my numb hands together. Rian watched me, retreating to stand near the door. The tray on the floor held a single bowl of thick gray paste. I picked up the bowl with both hands. I could barely hold it, my hands were clumsy. I drank straight from the bowl. It was awful, but it was hot and it was food. Rian watched me empty the bowl. I dropped it back onto the tray.
She made no move to collect the tray and tie me back up. She stayed near the door, watching me.
"What?" I finally asked.
"They want to trade you to the police."
"I'm that valuable?" I didn't believe it. I massaged my wrists, wincing at how swollen and raw they were.
She shook her head, angry about something. "You're more valuable to us. And despite what Lief and the others believe, I don't think you're here to betray us. The police don't work that way. They're usually much less subtle."
"You believe the Patrol sent me?"
"I found you near the port. I saw the things they took from you."
She shuffled her feet, watching me. I wriggled my fingers until I could feel them again.
