by Peter Grant
“Why not? Just don’t get too close to her, or she’ll accuse us of crowding her again.”
They paced out three circuits of the perimeter track, just two more walkers among several groups enjoying the morning sunshine before the heat of the day became too great to bear.
Jake tensed suddenly. “D’you hear that?”
“What?”
“That rumble. Sounds like the reaction thrusters of an assault shuttle.”
“Can’t hear it… no, wait a minute, there it is. You know, your hearing’s gotten a lot sharper since you lost your sight.”
“Compensation, I guess. Can you see it?”
“Not yet… now I can. It’s coming from the direction of Banka, heading this way. Hey, it’s dropping lower. Wonder if it’s going to land here?”
“We’ll soon find out.”
The bored prisoners watched as the assault shuttle circled, then touched down on the small landing pad laid out behind the administration buildings beyond the triple fence of the prison camp. A brown-uniformed officer and a female civilian walked down the rear ramp and turned towards the building housing the office of the Camp Commandant.
“What rank is he?” Jake asked, his voice fretful. “Do you recognize him?”
“No, I can’t see him clearly from here, but the Camp Adjutant has just braced and saluted him.”
“That’s not saying much. Any officer who rates an assault shuttle to come here, instead of slower and less impressive transport, has got to be field grade at least.”
“Yeah. They’ve just gone into the Headquarters building.”
“Maybe we’ll find out what they’re up to in due course. Let’s get back to walking.”
Slowly the prisoners began pacing out their unchanging circuits once more, just as they did every day. The unusual distraction of the shuttle’s arrival had been welcome, but the tedium of prison camp life was eternal, or so it seemed.
They hadn’t done more than a couple of circuits when the loudspeakers suddenly crackled to life. “All prisoners are to return to their quarters at once. I say again, all prisoners are to return to their quarters at once. Remain there until you are informed that normal routine can resume.”
“What the hell?” Jake wondered aloud.
“I don’t know, but I guess we’ll find out.”
“Yeah. Steer me back to my room, will you, Griss?”
“Sure. This way.”
Jake sat down on his lower bunk. He normally enjoyed the privacy of not having a roommate in the bunk above, but at times like this, when he couldn’t see what was going on outside and had no-one to tell him, it grated.
His thoughts were interrupted by the clump of boots in the corridor outside. He recognized them. They were worn by the guards who periodically shook down their rooms, looking for contraband. They marched past his door and stopped at the room next to his. Through the door he recognized the voice of one of the Sergeants of the guard.
“Mrs. Aldred, Ma’am? You’re to come with us, please. There’s someone to see you in the Commandant’s office.”
“See me? Who?”
“I really couldn’t say, Ma’am. I was told to fetch you. That’s all I know.”
“Oh, very well. I’ll come.”
He heard her footsteps as she walked through the door of her room into the corridor outside, closing it behind her. He jumped to his feet as she and her escort walked past his door.
“Gloria! Be careful!”
She didn’t answer him. Instead the footsteps died away down the corridor until he heard the door at the end of the hut open, then close. Silence descended.
He sat down again on his bunk, his mind whirling. Was this what he’d feared ever since Gloria had begun her self-imposed and very public estrangement from the military prisoners?
~ ~ ~
The Sergeant snapped to attention in the door of the Commandant’s office. “Mrs. Aldred is here, Ma’am.”
A pleasant contralto voice replied, “Thank you, Sergeant. Send her in, please, then close the door.”
Gloria walked inside to find a woman of about her own age facing her. She wore a smartly tailored business suit. Her face was open and… if one could ever call a Bactrian face ‘honest’, Gloria admitted, she looked honest.
“Good morning, Doctor Aldred. I’m Doctor Surkh, one of the personal physicians to the Satrap of Bactria and his wife.”
Gloria’s eyes widened. “Good morning, Doctor. I must admit, you’re just about the last person I’d expect to see in a prison camp on Laredo!”
Surkh laughed, her voice merry. “I didn’t exactly expect this assignment myself! Her Majesty asked me to undertake this mission because I’m a doctor, like you are. She hoped that our relationship might be more professional than adversarial.”
“I see,” Gloria said slowly. “What sort of ‘mission’ is it?”
“I’m to bring you a message from Her Majesty. What happens after that is up to you. Please, sit down.” As Gloria did so, she took a holographic display unit from her briefcase and placed it on the desktop. “Here’s Her Majesty’s message.” She pressed a button.
A three-dimensional image flickered to life above the desk. It revealed an attractive young woman wearing a long flowing gown. She walked towards a chair and sat down, the camera following her movements and zooming in on her face as she looked into the lens and began to speak.
“Doctor Aldred, today I may be Lady Zeba and the wife of Satrap Rostam, but a year ago I was simply Lieutenant Yazata of the Bactrian Army. I was a low-ranking aide to General Huvishka when your forces attacked the Arena in Tapuria – I’m sorry; you would refer to it as Banka, I suppose. I’m afraid the change of names has confused many of us, on both sides.
“I was one of those who helped get the Satrap clear of your initial assault. We fought our way through the changing-rooms and corridors beneath the Arena. Eventually I was ordered to take the Crown Prince and find a place to hide. Your forces didn’t locate us, but they did find and kill his father and those with him. I understand your husband and the others in the assault party were then killed by our forces. You have my condolences. As women, I think we have an altogether deeper and more profound sense of loss over the death of those we love. Men never seem to feel it in the same way that we do, in our wombs.”
Gloria closed her eyes. Oh, yes! she thought with a pang of mental anguish. How often I’ve heard these military men talk with pride about someone ‘laying down his life for his country’ – but their wives still mourn, and their children still weep, and nothing can ever completely fill the void they leave behind.
“You’ve lost your husband and children during the war between our nations. I haven’t lost any blood relatives, but I’ve lost comrades in arms who were dear to me, and my husband lost his father. I think both of us understand the cost of war at a visceral level. I can’t change the past, just as my husband can’t either. He didn’t start this war, and he wasn’t consulted about it. From the moment of his father’s death, he’s sought to begin reconciling our two nations. You have personal experience of that. He immediately stopped his father’s policy of executing captured prisoners of war, and overrode State Security opposition to the change by having their senior surviving officer on Termaz – I mean, Laredo – executed. He also arranged for you to be given medical supplies to treat your wounded. We’re both grateful that you offered to help treat our civilian casualties as well. I’m sure some of them survived only because of you.
She sighed. “We now face a situation where the militarists and traditionalists who’ve previously controlled this nation’s policies are temporarily in retreat; but they’re not defeated, and they’re trying to claw back the influence they’ve lost. They’re bitterly opposed to my husband’s attempts to reduce expenditure on the Army and the military occupation of your planet. They’re making it as difficult as possible for him to implement domestic reforms that might, over time, transform our nation’s outlook from bellicosity to a more
… rational approach. Sadly, his efforts don’t appear to be reciprocated by your Government-in-Exile, which is now comprised of former military people. They appear to have the same perspective on the conflict as our military leaders.
“That’s why I’m sending you this message. My husband is not a soldier and has never been one. He wants both Bactria and Termaz – Laredo – to be free of hatred, violence and savagery; but he’s stymied at present by entrenched military interests on both sides. It’s going to take time and hard work to overcome their resistance. Terrible atrocities and tragedies have been perpetrated and suffered by both sides, I don’t deny that; but unless we interrupt the cycle of reflexive, reactive violence that seems to govern us all at the moment, how will we ever find peace?”
She was silent for a moment, gazing straight into the camera lens. “I need an ally on your side. I need someone I can talk to as a woman and a human being, not a military automaton. I need someone who’ll mobilize the supporters of peace on her planet to work with the supporters of peace on my planet. I dare to hope that as a doctor, you’ll understand what I’m talking about; and I dare to hope that you may be willing to take a risk and join me in this effort.
“You don’t know me, and have no reason to trust me. That’s why I asked Doctor Surkh to convey this message to you. She can talk to you as one medical professional to another, which I hope will allow you to interact with mutual respect. I’ve told her to answer your questions as honestly as she can. Many of them can only be answered if we meet face-to-face, of course. I can’t come to you, because my husband needs my active help and support in working for peace. Besides… I’m expecting our first child.” She dimpled, and Gloria could almost feel the anticipation and pleasure radiating from her. “I therefore invite you to visit me on Bactria to discuss what we might achieve together. If you agree, Doctor Surkh will escort you here as my honored guest. You will no longer be treated as a prisoner of war.
“I’ll leave you to talk with her. I truly hope I’ll see you soon. Thank you for listening.”
Gloria bowed her head, feeling moisture welling up in her eyes. She could think only of the pain of losing, first her children, then her husband. The hatred of the enemy engendered during the years of war seemed pitifully stupid now that she’d been reminded that the other side had lost just as much, and suffered precisely the same pain. Could she… dare she… respond?
The visitor watched her in silence, giving her time to think. At last she asked gently, “Is there anything more I can tell you right now?”
Gloria shook her head. “I… I don’t think so. Her Majesty put it very well. I… I just don’t know what to do. I…”
The tears flowed suddenly, freely. Doctor Surkh rose from her chair and crossed swiftly to Gloria, hugging her gently, and she couldn’t help reciprocating. Both women leaned into each other for a timeless moment of shared grief and sympathy.
At last Gloria wiped her eyes with the back of her hand. “I’m sorry. I must look frightful!” She looked around in vain for something with which to dry her face and eyes.
“Hold on.” Surkh disappeared through a side door, to emerge almost immediately with a damp facecloth and a hand towel. “I got these from the Commandant’s private restroom.” She handed them to Gloria, one after the other, and waited while the prisoner cleaned herself up.
“Thank you,” Gloria said at last, handing back the towel.
“It was nothing.” Surkh put the cloths on the desk and sat down again on the edge of her chair. “What do you think?”
“I… I’ve been alone and isolated for so long it’s hard to think straight. There are all sorts of warning lights flashing in my mind… but the Lady Zeba is right. On an emotional, maternal level, this goes beyond thought. Intellect and logic helped get us into this mess, after all! I… I think I have to try. I don’t honestly know whether I can bring myself to fully trust any Bactrian, but I suppose plenty of you think the same about us by now. I… I’ve got to at least try.”
“Thank you,” the visitor said simply. “I’ll take you back to Tapuria with me in the assault shuttle that was placed at my disposal. There’s not much in the way of fashionable clothing for civilians on this planet – at least, not yet – but there are a few shops set up for the families of administrators and bureaucrats. We’ll get you some better clothes, and get your hair fixed up as you like it, and spend the night at the transient quarters. Tomorrow morning we’ll go up to orbit. Our ship will leave for Bactria tomorrow afternoon.”
“What about my things?”
“I’ll have the guards escort you to your room to pack.”
“No!” Suddenly Gloria couldn’t stand the thought of going back inside the wire. “If we’re going to shop in Banka – I mean, Tapuria, as you call it now – there’s nothing I need to bring with me. All my clothing is old and worn-out, anyway.”
“Oh, you poor thing! Didn’t they give you any creature comforts?”
“In a military-run prison camp? You must be joking!” They laughed shakily together. “Oh – there is one thing. I don’t want to see him, but could one of the guards take a comm handset to Captain Jake Smith? He’s in the room next to mine. I’d better tell him I won’t be coming back, at least for a while.”
“I’m sure we can do that. Let me talk to the Commandant. Please excuse me for a moment.”
“Thank you. Oh – one more thing.” She hesitated. This would cross a line, perhaps irrevocably… but she could think of no other way to stop the hard-liners from interfering. “Please ask whoever takes him the handset to also remove all the book readers in the library at the end of that block. They should be confiscated and destroyed.”
“Book readers?” The other’s voice was mystified. “Is there something wrong with them?”
“I can’t say any more at present. Just do it… please?”
“Of course. Anything you say.”
~ ~ ~
Lieutenant-Colonel Amu said briskly, “Certainly, Doctor. I’ll have a comm set taken to the prisoner at once. The guard will dial my office code when he gets there. Please answer the call as normal, then Mrs. Aldred can speak with Captain Smith.”
“Thank you, Colonel.” Surkh smiled gratefully at him, turned, and hurried out of his temporary quarters.
He looked at the Adjutant. “Take the handset yourself, then go to the library and get those readers. If she wants them removed, that implies they’re a danger to her if they stay there. I can only presume that’s because they use them to communicate with the outside.”
“Communicate using book readers, Sir? How is that possible?”
“I don’t know, but that’s the only possibility I can think of. If they warn their compatriots that she’s going to co-operate with the Satrap, they may try to kill her. We’ll send the readers to State Security in Tapuria. I bet their tech experts can find out how they work. Get them all.”
“Yessir!” The Captain seized a comm unit from his desk and bustled out.
I think I’ll mention that possible threat to State Security myself, right now, the Lieutenant-Colonel mused, picking up the desk handset. They may be able to use the information to help convince Mrs. Aldred to co-operate. If that works, they’ll owe me. They might even help me get a posting out of this hell-hole and back to civilization!
~ ~ ~
Jake looked up alertly as the tramp of heavy footsteps came down the corridor. They stopped outside his door, and someone knocked. He heard the voice of the Camp Adjutant say curtly, “Captain Smith?”
“Here,” he replied, standing up.
The door opened. “Mrs. Aldred wants to speak with you over this comm unit. Hold on a moment.” He heard a code being entered on the keypad. After a brief pause, the Adjutant said, “Stand by for Captain Smith.” He placed the unit in Jake’s hand. “Go ahead.”
Jake raised it to his face. “Captain Smith here.”
Gloria’s voice came through the earpiece. “Jake, I’m leaving. The wife of the Satrap sent
me a message. She needs help to work for peace. I… I can’t not respond. This is too important. I’m going to try to help.”
“Gloria, you can’t! This is a trap! They’re trying to divide the Resistance!”
“No, Jake! I don’t believe you. I think you’re stuck in the same old military rut you’ve all been stuck in for years. You can’t see the wood for the trees any more. I’ve got to break out of that mold and work towards something new. You can’t see it, and the others can’t see it, and Dave and his people off-planet can’t see it, but I can. I’ve got to do this.”
“Gloria, no! That’s an order!”
Her voice turned icy. “You have no authority to order me to do anything. It’s the other way round. As Chairperson of the Council of the Resistance, I order you to do some serious thinking! If you come to your senses you might one day become part of the solution, instead of being part of the problem as you are now!”
There was a sudden click as she disconnected the call. Jake called uselessly, “Gloria!”, but he knew it would do no good. He was overwhelmed by a sudden wave of despair.
He was still gazing sightlessly at the handset when he heard the footsteps of the Adjutant returning from the library at the end of the corridor. The man said, “I’ll take that. Hang on a moment.” He heard him shuffling something in his hands, something that clicked together like plastic casings, and he suddenly realized with a surge of horror what Gloria had done.
“Are those our book readers?”
“Yes. I’m confiscating them.”
“But… but why? How are we going to read anything?”
“That’s your problem. We’re going to send them to State Security, to see what’s going on inside them.”
Jake felt the Adjutant take the comm unit from his suddenly shaking grasp, then he turned and walked away down the passage.
~ ~ ~
As the roar of the assault shuttle’s reaction thrusters faded into the distance, the loudspeakers crackled. “Resume normal camp routine. Resume normal camp routine.”
Jake sprang to his feet and opened the door. Up and down the corridor he heard the noise of his comrades doing the same, heading for the door at the end of the block.
