Morgan's Choice

by Greta van Der Rol

  One last step. Her outstretched foot found tiles. She sagged, relief draining what little strength she had left.

  Ravindra reached out an arm.

  She fended him off. “Don’t. I’m okay.” All the same he was a reassuring bright white warmth beside her, while she concentrated on her breathing. The silence pressed down on her, as heavy as the darkness. Above her, the heat of her handprints faded on the metal rungs. In…out.

  “I can’t see a thing,” he muttered.

  Of course he couldn’t. Stupid woman. Her heart pounding, Morgan took hold of Ravindra’s sleeve and groped for the wall, over there somewhere, as far from the trapdoor as they could get. This direction was the part they hadn’t cleaned. Her fingers brushed the wall’s surface, at once smooth but gritty. He stumbled a little, blind in the total darkness. The wall disappeared beneath her fingers. A door. Air rushed past her, just like the mixture of gas when an airlock opened.

  The sound of the hatch being raised echoed and banged through the room. The light inside the tent spilled down like a searchlight.

  “You’re wasting your time, Hai Suri. Even if she was here, she wouldn’t come down into the dig. Remember how frightened she was?” Unwyn said.

  Lakshmi snorted. “I remember. You won’t mind if we take a look anyway.”

  Morgan towed Ravindra into the new space just as light flooded the room. A foot—Lakshmi’s—appeared. The hidden door slid shut in front of her of its own accord. Almost weeping with relief, she rested her forehead against the surface. The air wasn’t good, but at least they were hidden. Ravindra’s fingers kneaded her shoulder.

  He leaned close, all spice, mud and warm breath and slipped his arm around her waist from behind, pulling her against his chest. “Stay calm. It’ll be all right.”

  She straightened, pushed his arm away. She didn’t need his help. Even though it felt good. She held her breath, enhancing her hearing to the maximum.

  “Now do you believe me?” Unwyn said, his words muffled by the wall.

  Lakshmi’s boots clicked on the tiles. Heavier footfalls receded down the open passage and returned. “Okay. She’s not here. But let me make this very, very clear, Professor Unwyn. If I find out you’ve helped her, so help me you’ll be very, very sorry.”

  Not happy; not happy at all. Darkness might be terrifying but it wasn’t vindictive. Lakshmi’s voice dripped venom.

  “Forgive me, Suri. I don’t understand. All right, you say the woman has stolen a skimmer. Is that a capital offence? I thought she was Queen of the Orionar.”

  “Huh. You didn’t believe that rubbish, Raj? I know these murals are enhanced.”

  “What are you afraid she’ll do? Summon the Fleet?”

  Lakshmi laughed. “The Fleet has come. And gone.” The laugh became a chuckle, cold as the ice demons of Sirrbesk. “Without Admiral Ravindra.”

  Somebody—a third person—cleared his throat. “We’d better get on, Hai Suri.”

  Morgan smiled without mirth. Lakshmi was a bitch, first class. And over confident.

  “Yes. Remember, Professor. Don’t cross me.”

  “I wouldn’t dream of it, Hai Suri.”

  Footfalls echoed from the rungs. One, two, three people ascended. The hatch scraped closed.

  Chapter Thirty-One

  Morgan waited, listening for any furtive movements, for the soft rush of air into lungs beyond the portal. Her lungs felt heavy, breathing had become difficult. She fumbled, her fingers searching for a switch to open the door. Ravindra found it, reaching past her, certainly not a secret from this side. The stone slid back. The lights were switched off, of course, but hand prints still glowed on the ladder. She staggered out, head spinning. He shuffled behind her, hand outstretched.

  She stepped back to him. “You’re in clear space now. Near the ladder.”

  “Can you see? See in the dark?”

  “Um. Not in pitch black. I can enhance visible light and I can see extra parts of the spectrum. I can see you and I can see the handprints on the ladder. The strange eyes, you know?”

  The hatch scraped. Weapon in hand, Ravindra pulled her away, back to the wall. She heard furtive movement in the darkness, looked up to see Unwyn’s form, bright in infrared. He clambered down a few rungs, the hatch scraped closed again and then the lights came on. He scrambled down the rest of the way and jumped the last few rungs.

  “Are you all right?” His eyes flicked between her and Ravindra. “When you weren’t here… Where did you hide? I was sure they’d have to find you with the heat sensors.”

  “That chamber must be sealed against sensors,” she said.

  Unwyn frowned. “What chamber?”

  She whirled. The door was gone.

  “Quietly,” he whispered. “They’ve left six troopers up there. It’s okay. They don’t think you’re here. It’s more in case you arrive. I’ve told them I often work at night. Doesn’t matter down here, does it?”

  She nodded. They could think about the guards later.

  “There’s a secret door.” She walked to the wall where dusty smears bore testament to her movements. “Somewhere here.” It would have to be the last place she’d touched. She pressed. Nothing happened. Two spots then. No result. She turned around, imitating her actions when Lakshmi started down the ladder.

  “I tripped,” Ravindra said.

  Ah. He’d tripped; just about here. A cracked tile. She pushed down.

  Unwyn sucked in air as a section of wall slid backwards and sideways. “What’s in there?”

  “I don’t know.” She held out an arm to stop him from charging forward. “Give it a moment for the air to circulate. You’ll need a lamp.”

  Unwyn almost leapt across the room to grab a lantern, while Morgan stood in the entrance to prevent it from closing. The professor thrust through into the new chamber, the light held high. The place seemed almost like a shrine. Maybe that was what it was, dust-free, sealed from the millennia. A mural decorated the back wall, above an intricately carved wooden altar. But this wasn’t a painting; they were 3d images of people, almost as if they were trapped in there, looking out from behind a transparent barrier. A beautiful woman, flaxen-haired, pale skinned, blue eyed, smiled out at the viewer from her seat on a bench, her hand resting on a feline with thick grey fur and a dark muzzle. A dark-skinned man stood behind her, his hand on her shoulder. Another feline wove around his legs. They were in a lovely tropical garden. She could almost smell the fragrance. Perhaps once she could have. A word was inlaid into the wooden plaque beneath the image, then a few symbols separated by a dash. A name? Dates?

  “Orionar.” Unwyn muttered the word. He gazed, enthralled, at the images.

  “These are your people?” Ravindra said to Morgan.

  “They sure look like my people, yes.”

  “These images must be five thousand years old. Part of our oldest history.” A question gleamed in Unwyn’s blue eyes. “If your people are the Orionar, how could your world be kept so far apart from the manesan mainstream for so long?”

  Ravindra spoke into the silence. “I think perhaps we owe the Professor some explanation. She is not manesan. The spaceship she was in malfunctioned and was taken on board my flagship, Vidhvansaka. The similarities between Morgan and Jones and our people were of interest to everybody, rest assured, but their arrival was kept top secret. We disseminated stories to explain their unusual appearance and their strange ship.”

  Unwyn’s jaw flapped. “But… where do you come from? What are you?”

  She took a deep breath. “I come from somewhere far away. I don’t know how I got here and I don’t know how to get home. I expect I’m much more like the Orionar than like you. So maybe I am an Orionar.”

  She stopped and looked at Ravindra. How much to say?

  He took over. “But right now is not the time to delve into ancient history.”

  “I don’t much like the notion of being used by Bunyada to justify their murderous revolution, either,” Morgan added
.

  “I see that. No wonder you have no time for Bunyada,” Unwyn said.

  “Oh, Bunyada doesn’t worry me. I’m sorry, Admiral, but I can’t see why people can’t rule themselves. I just hate being used to trick people. It’s funny, really, that maybe by accident we’ve stumbled on a truth that was right here under their noses.”

  Unwyn chewed at his lip. “You’ve given me a lot to think about.” He lifted a bag off his shoulders. “I collected a flask and some food before I came down. “Let’s at least have a hot drink and a bite to eat.”

  “Good idea,” Ravindra said.

  They sat together on the floor and Unwyn shared out charb and biscuits.

  “Who is the woman who came down here?” Ravindra said after he’d wolfed down a biscuit.

  “Devagnam’s daughter, Lakshmi. The spoilt only child,” Morgan said. “Asbarthi’s intended. She doesn’t think much of me. Mind you, the feeling’s mutual.”

  “They had a son, but he died,” Unwyn said. “Make no mistake, she’s a highly competent woman. She’s virtually taken over running the family interests, no mean feat for a woman.”

  “No, indeed,” Ravindra said. “And she is her father’s heir.”

  “Yes. Asbarthi scored quite a catch with her.” Unwyn reached for another biscuit. “Devagnam himself is one of the most influential Hai Sura on the planet, so having his support for this revolt was important.”

  “You know her?” Morgan said to Ravindra.

  “I know of her,” Ravindra replied. “I was briefed on Asbarthi and his friends. She has gone?”

  “No,” said Unwyn. “She arrived with Asbarthi. But he couldn’t see much point in coming here, you could tell. He stayed in the copter and told her to hurry. He left in one of the copters, she’s still here with the second one.”

  “How many men?” Ravindra said.

  “Six. All armed and wide awake.”

  “Where?” He finished the charb and set the mug down.

  Unwyn pointed up. “In the tent.”

  Morgan, huddled in the blanket over Unwyn’s borrowed jacket, chewed on the last biscuit. Her clothes were drying and she was finally starting to feel a bit warmer. She stared up at the ceiling, at the darkness beyond the lights. “Can we rush them when we get out?”

  “Risky,” Ravindra said, looking up at the ladder. “Even if we can take out the men, if one stays in the copter it has its own weapons. Is there any other way out of here?”

  The light gleamed in Unwyn’s eyes. “There is an alternative.”

  The way he said that. A worm of apprehension began to uncoil in her gut.

  “That is?” Ravindra said.

  “When we mapped this place out, I noticed a tunnel from the cellars. I followed it for a ways then decided I had more to do here. Anyway, I’m pretty sure it leads to where the river port used to be, below the waterfall in the jungle. Down there.” Unwyn pointed at the ground.

  “Pretty sure?” Morgan gulped. The worm uncurled a little more, sending a tendril of fear up her spine.

  “Yes. I found a sign chiseled into the rock, written in archaic script.”

  “And you want us to follow some moldy, root-filled hole in the ground for how far?”

  “No, not moldy and root-filled. It goes through rock.”

  A journey through darkness. Or face Lakshmi and her goons at the top of the ladder.

  “And when we reach the end?” Ravindra said.

  “There’s a tiny settlement further down the river, not much more than a fishing village. It doesn’t even appear on all the maps. I was there six months or so ago, to take a look at some ruins in the jungle. We can maybe get a vehicle there and carry on toward the base. Apart from anything else, we’ll have disappeared for a while.”

  “Approach the base from the river.” Ravindra gave a nod of approval. “Yes. No one would expect that.”

  Morgan picked up the beaker next to her hand. It was empty. She put it down again. Face your fear or try your luck against six armed men. It’s just darkness. Darkness creeping behind her, ready to pounce. Her stomach knotted. Not as dark as space. But in space there are stars, said the little voice in her head.

  “I have lanterns,” Unwyn said, his voice gentle.

  “And you won’t be alone,” Ravindra added.

  “Well,” Morgan said, standing. She let the blanket drop. “We’d better get moving.”

  Chapter Thirty-Two

  “If Unwyn dares to defy me, I’ll have his balls on an open fire.” Lakshmi leaned into the copter’s open door, arms folded.

  Asbarthi shook his head slowly. “I thought you quite fancied him. And please don’t bother with the Hasta nonsense, Lakshmi. I’m talking about lust, not life partners.”

  Why deny it? Of course she would have. He certainly wouldn’t have been the first. “A harmless fling on the side. Would it have worried you?”

  “Not really. I have no illusions about you, my dearest. You’ll be a wonderful consort. Well, come on; get in. I want to get to Zaffra Bay.”

  Lakshmi turned to glower at the tent. How Unwyn could possibly prefer that… that freak to her was… absurd. And yet that seemed to be the case. The more she thought about it the more certain she was the woman would turn up here. “You go on. I’m not convinced. I’ll stay here with the other copter.”

  He sighed. “All right, Lakshmi. I suppose it covers two possibilities.”

  “She’s crossed me. Bitch.” She’d be sorry.

  “As you wish. I must go. Join me soon, hm? We can celebrate our victory together.”

  The copter soared away, quickly lost in the darkness. It began to rain again and she scampered for the shelter of the other copter.

  ****

  Asbarthi let out a sigh of relief when his copter finally landed in the base’s main square. He never wanted to endure such a rocky ride, ever again. He climbed out, his legs just a little bit shaky. An officer stepped forward and bowed.

  “Welcome to Zaffra Bay, Sur Asbarthi. I am Commander Iniman, now commanding officer of this facility.”

  The man’s smile was twisted, nasty. He’d obviously enjoyed himself. And why not? He would enjoy himself when he got back to Ravindra. The thought brought a smile to his face. “I trust you didn’t have too much trouble, Commander?”

  “I confess, more than I would have liked. Some of the garrison tried a counter-attack. But as you can see, it was unsuccessful. I have some of the remaining Mirka officers under guard in the cells. Including Admiral Gamesh.”

  “Gamesh. Yes,” Asbarthi drawled. “I remember him. He suppressed a popular uprising on Chapsa five years ago, as I recall. Oh, the least I can do is say hello.” Yes, he remembered him very well. He’d been at Chapsa himself, in the background of course, helping to direct matters. If the Mirka hadn’t waded in, Chapsa would have been his. He’d only just managed to slip out. It was all a learning experience. He wouldn’t fail this time.

  He accompanied Iniman along a neat road to the grey-walled detention block. Inside, they passed through a gate into an echoing passage lined with cells. Iniman stopped in front of one and opened a spy hole.

  Asbarthi peered through. Five officers were crowded together with barely enough room to sit on the bare floor. How very suitable. “Fetch the Admiral for me.”

  They dragged him out, a short man with bright yellow eyes and defiant stance. “Asbarthi. Back for another try?”

  So they knew. He hadn’t realized. Ah well. More fool them. “You mean Chapsa, don’t you? You’ve saved me the bother of explaining why I feel some need to rid myself of you. I learnt some lessons. We won’t fail this time.” He turned to Iniman. “Take them out and execute them. All of them. Perhaps you could have them dig their own burial pit first. To save you some trouble.”

  Iniman grinned. He was Vesha, of course, a logistics expert who would never ordinarily be allowed to command a base such as this. Which was why he’d been so easy to recruit. “Best save the Admiral’s shoulder boards, though. Y
ou’ve just received a field promotion… Admiral Iniman.”

  The man swelled. “Remove his shoulder boards.”

  A soldier stepped forward, unfastened the boards from Gamesh’s uniform and handed them to Iniman, who stared at the two silver stars with avaricious delight. So easy to reward underlings like Iniman.

  “Enjoy your time in the top job, Iniman,” said Gamesh. “You won’t have it long.”

  Iniman swept his left hand around and struck the Admiral a searing back-handed blow across his cheek. Gamesh swayed, recovered, and snarling his contempt spat full in Iniman’s face.

  “Get him out of here,” snapped the new commander of Zaffra Base, wiping the spittle with his fingers.

  Two men shoved Gamesh out the door. The rest were herded out, prodded with rifle barrels. Asbarthi watched with satisfaction as one officer received a rifle butt to his belly, a reward for obstinacy. He collapsed to the floor and his jailers dragged him outside.

  “What about their women?” Asbarthi asked the new Admiral.

  Iniman looked up from the shoulder boards he held, the stars gleaming in the light. “They’re all in the mess hall, under guard.”

  Asbarthi looked up from inspecting his fingernails. “Best to be rid of them, too, don’t you think? We don’t want any insurgency.”

  “You mean… kill them?” His Adam’s apple bobbed.

  “It’s best, I feel, Admiral. For the greater good. Not an easy decision, I grant you but the sort of difficult choices a leader must make.”

  Iniman’s hand closed over the shoulder boards. “I’ll see to it.”

  “But quietly, you understand?”

  Chapter Thirty-Three

  Unwyn led the way down a wide passage. Plaster broken away from the stone littered the ground and crunched beneath their feet. No echoes here; the darkness beyond the beam of light cast by their lanterns seemed to absorb their footfalls. They passed a doorway, then another. Morgan flashed the light he’d given her into each before she scurried past in spite of Ravindra’s soft tread behind her.