Fortunately, the roads on Skye were relatively deserted at this time of day, so she was soon able to find a stretch of road where there were few vehicles. Double checking her yacht’s cloak was on, she began to descend, keeping her speed down so as not to disturb the atmosphere enough for her passage through it to become visible from the ground. It would take six minutes to reach her designated spot, so she retracted her restraints and quickly made her way to the cargo hold where her Mini was waiting. The door was unlocked, and she sank down into the familiar seat with a happy sigh, running her hands along the top of the steering wheel, enjoying the smooth feel of the leather underneath. Karen felt a momentary pang of fear, realising she didn’t have the key, but a quick look confirmed it had already been placed in the slot by a thoughtful servitor. She rolled her sleeves and called up an image of the view outside in her mind, noting the yacht was making its final approach. Karen started the engine, noting it sounded far smoother than she remembered. Out of curiosity she blipped the accelerator and was surprised how quickly the rev counter spun towards the red line.
“Oh, that’s different,” she said out aloud.
“Ten seconds, Karen, get ready now,” warned Vimes, reminding her to engage drive and release the handbrake, holding the car steady on the footbrake instead. The back of the hold vanished, revealing a short ramp already extended down to the road. She quickly accelerated, the suspension almost grounding as she came off the ramp. Despite Vimes warning, her car’s acceleration was surprising, so she came off the accelerator to slow it down.
She’d chosen the drop-off point well, a depression between several hills that masked her appearance from any casual viewer. It was a five-mile drive to the bungalow, and she couldn’t wait to surprise her aunt and uncle, although she was a little apprehensive as to how they would react. The morning sun was to her left and still low enough to be hidden by the hills, but when it did peak through gaps, she noted how her windows immediately reacted and polarised it.
“Another one of Graham’s tweaks?” she asked Vimes, knowing what the answer would be. Karen thought for a moment, “What will you do with the yacht?”
“I have numerous tasks that require my using a physical avatar, so I will move it back into orbit and across the Atlantic. You will be able to contact the yacht at any time, and it will be no more than fifteen minutes away, even when on the other side of the planet,” he replied.
“OK,” she replied, seeing the familiar, ruined iron-age broch come into view on her left, a reminder of happier days as a child when she and her family would climb the steep hill and picnic amongst the ruin of tumbled stones. Her destination was now less than a minute away, and Karen unconsciously increased her speed, until realising she was doing nearly eighty miles an hour at which point she slowed down, berating herself for getting careless.
“ I need to be more careful with my car’s new found capabilities,” she thought, rounding the corner and descending down the hill to where she could see the bungalow of her aunt and uncle set back from the road. Early morning dew clung to the grass, and in the distance, she could see one of the Crofters distributing food for his sheep out the back of his tattered orange van, the animals recognising it and following behind. The high cliffs of the valley side were still in the shade, and she looked towards the top to see if she could get a glimpse of the eagles who nested there. She caught a momentary flash of light reflected off glass and wondered if it was one of the many twitchers who sometimes braved the climb to the top of the cliffs to try and get a better view of the magnificent birds. Not having put in her special lenses she was unable to zoom in to get a closer look and mentally berated herself for having forgotten them.
As her car approached the bungalow, Karen slowed and stopped at the point where she had first met Adam, memories of that fateful evening flooding back. Of the accident, there was no sign and even the tyre tracks in the mud where the truck had swerved and nearly hit her, had vanished. Karen debated with herself whether to get out and look around, but decided against it, in too much of a hurry to see her family.
“I can always walk here later,” she told herself, engaging drive and travelling the final hundred yards to the bungalow, turning left and rattling over the aluminium cattle-grid. Karen did a three point turn in the driveway and carefully reversed back to the front door, before switching off and releasing the boot lock. The back of her car was packed with bags, and remembering the lenses, she rummaged through one until she found what she was looking for, a lump of warm smart metal. She held it and sent instructions for it to form around her right forearm. It took the shape of an intricate bracelet, the pattern one she had designed herself back on Capital. Karen rolled down her sleeve, covering it from view, then grabbed her main case and closed the boot.
The gravel crunched underfoot as she walked over to the cream-col0ured steps that led onto the patio. She knew her family must be at home for the garage door was open and her uncle’s silver Land Rover Discovery was outside, probably in readiness for a trip later in the day to Portree or even Inverness.
Karen stood in front of the door, strangely undecided now she was home. It took an effort of will for her to ring the doorbell and when she heard footsteps coming from inside, her stomach fluttered. The door was opened by her Aunt, Flora, who stared at her open-mouthed for a moment before stepping out and hugging her warmly.
“Why didn’t you tell us you were coming, you silly girl,” chided her aunt, the warmth of her greeting at odds with the words, “I've not made up your room or anything. Are you staying or is this just a flying visit?”
Before Karen could answer, Flora pulled away and called back into the house, “Alastair, you’ll never guess who’s here. It’s Karen.”
“What’s she want? Don’t let her in yet, give me a moment to hide the best whisky,” he called out in mock seriousness, then appeared in the doorway, his face lit up by a huge smile. A big man, comfortably over six foot tall, Alastair opened his arms wide and enveloped her in a huge hug, holding her close. Despite herself, Karen started crying, finally feeling able to let go of everything she had been holding in since the attack.
Alastair held her close and looked across to Flora with a quizzical expression. She looked back at him with the same look and shook her head, neither of them knowing what the matter was.
“I'll put the kettle on,” said Flora, practical as ever, squeezing past and heading for the kitchen.
Alastair looked down at Karen and tried to gently move her away so he could get a good look at her face, his cool blue eyes searching hers for answers.
“What’s the matter, lass? Is everything OK or are you just overwhelmed at seeing your favourite Uncle again?” he asked with a smile that belied his concern. He knew Karen was not one to cry without reason, so as she pulled herself closer again, he held her tight, feeling her body shake as she sobbed into his chest.
“I’m just so pleased to see you both,” Karen finally managed to get out, pulling away and wiping her eyes when she could stop, sniffing back a suddenly runny nose, “You two are almost all I have left to talk to.”
Concerned, Alastair pulled her close again and walked with her into the living room, sitting her down in the same chair by the window from which she had seen the explosion in the night sky all those months ago, just as Flora entered with a large tray piled high with an assortment of cakes and biscuits. She left it on a small table and hurried out to get the tea, returning moments later with another tray of cups and a teapot and began setting it all out. She poured the tea for Karen and proffered it, along with several slices of cake.
“Take one of each, Karen. The ginger cake has to be eaten but the Madeira I made yesterday. Go on, take some more,” she urged when Karen only took one slice.
Knowing her aunt too well and that it would be pointless to refuse, she took another slice with a grateful smile, initially taking a tentative bite of ginger cake before realising how hungry she was, then took another, larger one.
Sa
tisfied, Flora stopped hovering and poured out tea for both herself and Alastair before sitting down next to Karen. Alastair sat opposite them both, next to the new fireplace.
“Now then girl, tell us what’s the matter and who, or what has got you in such a state,” said Alastair, taking a sip of tea, before realising it was too hot. He carefully replaced the cup on the table. “And what have you been up to these past months?”
Flora reached out with her hand and patted Karen’s. “Don’t pay him any attention; you relax and tell us what you want in your own good time.”
She turned to her husband and chided him, “Don’t bully the poor girl, Alastair.”
The mock argument made Karen smile, knowing the two of them were still very much in love and their banter was just one side of how they showed it to each other.
“It’s alright, Flora, for once he’s right,” said Karen, turning to flash Alastair a quick smile before continuing, “That’s one of the main reasons I came here, to tell you what’s happened and ask for your advice. But first, is it OK if I stay with you for a while? If it’s inconvenient, I can try and rent one of the nearby cottages or failing that, somewhere in Portree or Dunvegan.”
Flora snorted.“Don’t be daft, Karen, there’s always a room for you here with us. Now, will you have some more cake?” she asked, picking up the plate and proffering it hopefully, “It’s all got to be eaten.”
Karen debated with herself for a few moments, then took another slice, silently thanking her enhanced metabolism that seemed to allow her to eat as much as she liked without gaining too much weight.
Both her aunt and uncle sat back and watched her eat, patiently waiting for her to tell them what was the matter. Karen replaced the half-eaten slice, took a sip of tea and a deep breath before starting her story. She looked at them both, noting the kindly expectation on their faces and began to relax as she realised these two wouldn’t judge or criticise her decisions, just do their best to help.
“I’m pregnant,” she finally said, looking at Flora who she instinctively knew would always know what to do, then at Alastair for reassurance. The two of them looked surprised, and Alastair broke the silence first with a heartfelt, “Well, I wasn’t expecting that, Karen. Is it congratulations or are you not happy about it?” he asked.
“Alastair!” exclaimed Flora, who turned back to Karen after giving her husband a stern look. “How far gone are you?” she asked.
“Not long, only a few weeks, that’s all. When I found out I was pregnant, all I could think of was to come here and try to figure out what to do next, before I tell the father.”
“Oh, so he doesn’t know then? Do we know who he is or have we not met him?” Flora asked.
Karen shook her head, “No, you haven’t met Adam yet.” Before she could say anything else, Alastair interrupted her.
“If we haven’t met him yet, why does that name sound familiar?” he said, looking thoughtful, trying to recall why it rang a bell. The two women both ignored him and continued with their conversation.
“What do you think his reaction will be when you tell him and how long have you two known each other? It all seems somewhat sudden, Karen. Are you sure about this?” Flora asked, the concern in her voice obvious, hoping her niece wasn’t getting in too deep, “and more importantly, when will we get to see him?” obviously anticipating seeing him in the not too distant future.
“He’s lovely, Flora,” replied Karen, smiling at the thought of him, “but Adam’s currently very busy and, well, he’s got a lot on his plate at the moment, what with the wa…,” Karen stopped herself from letting slip too much information before Flora was ready.
Flora picked up the hesitation. “With the what? I didn’t catch that last bit,” she said, just as Alastair joined in.
“Adam. I remember now. Wasn’t that the name of the young man that stayed here with you after you and whats-his-face split up?” He turned to Flora. “You know, Flora, the one Willy told us about. The foreign sounding chap.”
He looked at Karen, who could feel herself starting to blush for some reason, desperately trying to stop the warmth from reaching her face. She nodded.
“That’s him. That’s my Adam,” she replied, smiling when she said it. Flora picked up the smile and was reassured, seeing the warmth and affection when Karen spoke her man’s name, knowing that for her part at least, Karen was happy.
Alastair leant back in his chair, pleased he had remembered, but there was something else that was bothering him, also to do with the name.
“It’ll come to me in a minute,” he thought to himself.
Flora smiled at Karen. “Willy said he was very tall and good looking. He made quite a first impression on him by all accounts. So that’s the mystery man. Strange, there’s been a lot of them around here recently.”
Alastair nodded in agreement. “Flora’s right; lots of strange comings and goings lately, what with the military manoeuvres that seem to be going on forever. The Army has all but taken over the airfield down by Broadford.” Alastair hesitated for a few moments then continued speaking, a curious expression on his face. “Come to think of it, a while back we had two men knock on several houses across the loch asking for someone called Adam, didn’t we love?” he asked Flora. “Funny, they never came and asked anyone on this side, and I only found out about it at the recent council meeting to discuss the new wind turbine, when Jimmy Lockett mentioned it to me.”
He turned to Karen. “Do you think the two might be related in some way?”
Listening to what was being said, Karen suddenly felt the hairs on the back of her neck rise, and a cold chill ran down her spine. She thought furiously to Vimes, who had been quietly listening to the conversation.
“I don’t like the sound of this. Surely no-one can know, could they?” she asked her silent companion, desperately wanting him to reassure her.
“I don’t see how, Karen, but I’ve started monitoring communications and will return to you as quick as I can, just in case,” came the immediate response. “The yacht is currently in orbit above China, monitoring their hidden ballistic weapon programme and it will take about fifteen minutes to reach you. Any faster and the atmospheric disturbance caused by its progress would become noticeable and might trigger a nuclear alert, so my speed is restricted. When you first arrived, I checked the area and found nothing out of the ordinary, just the usual ramblers, bird watchers and military training going on.”
“Are you alright, Karen, you’ve suddenly gone very pale?” asked Flora, noticing the change come over her. “Are you feeling unwell?”
“No Flora, I’m fine. It’s probably nothing, and I’m worrying unnecessarily,” she replied.
“Worrying about what?” asked Alastair, who was about to say something else but was interrupted by a loud knocking on the front door. “Who the devil is that; it’s too early for the postman, he doesn’t usually come until midday.” He turned to Flora. “Are you expecting anyone?”
Flora shook her head, as Alastair pulled himself out of his seat with a groan and made his way over to the door leading out into the hallway, grumbling under his breath.
Karen could feel adrenaline pump through her body, sending icy tentacles through her stomach. Unconsciously, she reached across with her left hand and felt the reassuring warmth of smart-metal bracelet under the sleeve of her blouse. The knock on the door came again, but louder this time and she heard her uncle shout to whoever it was that he was coming.
SCENE 6, THE BEST LAID PLANS OF MICE AND MEN…
Duke Frederick was sitting at the head of a long and ancient wooden table in his grand hall, surrounded by many of his loyal co-conspirators and Naval commanders who formed the inner core of the rebellion. By now, all of the Sector heads had left and returned to their home planets, to be replaced at Frederick’s pleasure when his hold on all of the Empire was complete. Both human and android servitors busied themselves behind everyone, readying the food due to be served.
The meetin
g had already gone on for many hours, and the mood in the room was mixed, waxing and waning depending on which of the many reports coming in from across the Empire they were discussing at the time. With few exceptions, the rebellion had consolidated its hold on the Sectors and systems that had initially fallen to it, slowly bringing others into its grasp as the weeks and months progressed. However, recently there had been some unexpected setbacks. The Loki system, in Sector 9 had suddenly ceased responding and the scout ships and drones sent to investigate had all failed to return or communicate once they’d Jumped. Although only a small mining colony, Loki provided several rare earths used in the manufacture of smart-metal, and while these could be artificially produced, it was time-consuming and not cost-effective.
Both Frederick and his chiefs of staff suspected Alexander’s hand in this but were at a loss to explain how he had achieved it. More worryingly, coming in from all over the rebel systems were an increasing number of reports citing civil unrest. One of the pillars supporting the rebellion, and why it had been able to take control of so many previously loyal systems, was its ability to control the hearts and minds of both the general populace and from within the ranks of the Imperial Navy. This had been achieved through carefully manipulating and controlling the data networks and many sources of information available to the population via their implants. With every source of information available confirming the deaths of both Emperor and his heir and explaining how Frederick was the Duke appointed to see the Empire through this difficult time, the vast majority of people had fallen into line, not doubting for one moment the information being provided to them. The few that questioned what they were being told had been easily identified and taken care of.
It was even easier to take control of the hearts and minds of the Imperial Navy. With each Sector controlling and maintaining its own fleet, replacing those officers loyal to Alexander with ones loyal only to their Duke or Duchess had been relatively straightforward, albeit time-consuming. In preparation for the rebellion, Captains loyal to Frederick had arranged for their ship’s AI’s to be wiped and replaced with ones designed to support the rebellion and provide false information to the crews. Officers that could not be removed or had refused to turn were outnumbered and nearly all disposed of when Fredrick declared himself. It pleased and appealed to his warped sense of humour to know that the regular sailors and Marines fighting on his ships were in fact still loyal to Alexander and believed they were fighting for the Imperium.
Imperium: Coda: Book Three in the Imperium Trilogy Page 10
