Darklight

by Greg L. Turnquist

“So, what are we planning to do next?” Rodrina asked.

  “I’ve thought about that, but I keep hitting a dead end.” Gavin didn’t bother looking up as he replied to her question.

  “And what dead end is that?”

  “Even if we convince Director Fiona to let us go, I can’t see our next move. Look at where we are. It won’t take Melicose long to finish up his campaign in the north. I’m guessing he’ll be back within two weeks. By then, one of those assault teams will have found a way to the surface, or he’ll launch a more thorough sweep. Either way, nothing will be better than staying here. Given how he is building an empire across the entire realm, what could we possibly do that would destabilize him?”

  Gavin shrugged his hands and plunged his fork into his lunch without looking.

  Clarel grasped his hand. “I know we can’t see the path ahead of us, but don't pretend your lunch doesn't taste good.”

  Gavin’s face parted with a half grin.

  “Sending that intelligence to Melicose's enemies was too little, too late,” Rodrina said. “That invasion of the tunnels had to have been a direct response. I bet they caught our courier and squeezed out the information to find us.” She shook her head. “Should have had another middle man.”

  “If we had added someone else, the information would not have arrived in time. And you don't know the results. We just need Snitch to check one of her contacts—”

  The words caught in Gavin’s throat. His old habit of arguing with Rodrina had distracted him.

  “Sorry.” He stared back at his lunch and took another bite.

  Everyone finished in silence.

  Chapter Fifteen

  A Reexamination

  Snitch focused on levitating her lock pick dagger. She sat on the ground cross-legged for fifteen minutes before standing and kicking the dirt in front of her.

  “Blast! Some mentalist I am. Just send a message to Gavin. Yeah, thanks for the tip off. How long is that going to take?”

  Not knowing the odds didn’t sit well with her. She preferred casing out situations before making a move. No such opportunity here.

  Dwelling on Glantham's departure and hopeful return didn’t help.

  Could she cast spells? A strong hesitation filled her. Even though she had already seen Glantham do otherwise inexplicable things, picturing herself doing the same was even harder to swallow.

  Snitch paced in circles, unable to sit or stand. It was impossible to be calm. Yet Glantham had described the pawn shop job she had escaped from in perfect detail. It compelled her to grab her dagger and try again. Assuming the same position, she closed her eyes.

  Float. Float. Float. Float. Float. Float.

  An image of a dagger rising off the ground filled her mind’s eye. She repeated this for five minutes with no stray thoughts. But nothing happened, except for getting drenched in sweat.

  “Am I doing it right?” she shouted. The dagger didn’t float, which answered the question.

  Snitch returned to pacing. This time, the short fight Gavin almost lost replayed in her mind, step by step, gesture by gesture.

  She wished she could have helped instead of crouching, but she was never a soldier, just a small girl. Terrell’s ability to react and slide Gavin his blade had amazed her.

  Seeing Gavin on the verge of being killed had crushed her. She'd argued with him many times but couldn't imagine what it would be like if the Undergrounders lost their greatest warrior.

  Her thoughts extended past Gavin, to Rodrina and Glantham. They all had a purpose, but what about herself?

  She wanted to believe it, but what if Glantham was wrong? What if she wasn't the mentalist he thought? Snitch stared at the walls of the cave with longing eyes.

  “I'm just going to have to wait.”

  With that, she sat and once again focused on her dagger.

  Gavin was lost in thought. There wasn't much to attend to since their arrival. No patrols to watch out for. Food was all right. It was little more than shepherding people from one room to another, and it seemed like the best time to lay low and plan their next move.

  Military life had taught him to sleep when you can, so he tried to catch up, as did many others. The captain chuckled at the thought of some giddy Subciv staffer updating duty rosters for their new workers.

  Good enough. While not excited to work for a group he’d just met, going stir crazy doing nothing could be worse.

  The captain relaxed in the cafeteria as others chattered. However, a loud crash out in the corridor followed by yelling made him jump to his feet.

  “I am not going to sit around here and do nothing,” one soldier shouted.

  “We have no choice,” yelled the other.

  “What’s stopping us from leaving the way we came?”

  Gavin jumped in the middle. “Stand down,” he yelled, his arms stretched between them.

  “What are your orders?” the first one said. “With nothing to do but eat and sleep, there’s no point in military discipline. Coming here was the worst decision ever.” The soldier smirked.

  Gavin drew himself up to his full height and stepped into the man's face. “We may not be leaving today, but rest assured, I will have discipline in my ranks. You're confined to your bunk until further notice. Now get out of here.”

  His stern glare was met with silence as the man glanced in the direction of their accommodations and back. A dull throbbing hum in the floor was the only sound in the room.

  The soldier backed away, snorted, and left.

  Gavin turned to the other man. “If you even think about sneaking out without orders, you can forget about twenty-four hours of rations. You're also confined until further notice. Move it.”

  The soldier withdrew and headed to a different room.

  Gavin looked around at everyone else. “We might not be known as some top notch, elite team, but we are not a rabble of thieves ruled by chaos and anarchy. I will have discipline even in the jaws of death. Now, break it up!” Everyone shuffled out of the room, fast, with eyes averted.

  Left alone, Gavin turned and walked away. He needed time to think. Time to run through what had just happened. After crossing several corridors, he slumped at the railing of a strange passageway.

  He looked around at this strange world they had entered. A place where there were no military operations, no resistance movements. Just people working together. Perhaps on something greater?

  “Sir?”

  “Sergeant.” Gavin kept his focus on the surroundings. “Did you know they grow some of their food adjacent to this block? I asked earlier, and they told me it’s in this section. Quite impressive what they can accomplish.”

  “Sir, we just had an incident.”

  Gavin tilted his head. “You too? What happened?”

  “Three of our men got into an argument. I confined them, but bottom line, they don't like being stuck here.”

  “What did you say?”

  “Chain of command isn't going out the window anytime soon, if you follow me, sir.”

  Gavin sighed. “I need to speak with Clarel and Rodrina. I agree, we can't stay here forever. But for now, it's up to you and me to keep the peace. Some of our people may be getting antsy, so stay alert. I'll try to do the same. I just wish there were more of us.” With those words, he glanced off into the distance and sighed.

  “Sir, if I may, we can't keep reminiscing. It’s getting into the ranks.”

  Gavin's eyes snapped back to the sergeant, and his lips tightened. He paused a few seconds before straightening and tugging at his uniform. “You’re right, Sergeant.”

  The man had spotted what would be considered unpardonable indecisiveness. The sergeant had risked much going outside his rank, but the shakeup was needed.

  Gavin tipped his head.

  The sergeant nodded back.

  “As commanding officer, it is my duty to set the standard, not yours. No more grieving. Not you, not me. That will kill whatever morale is left. It's bad enough deal
ing with this foreign environment. The food may taste great, but we aren't swayed by that kind of stuff.

  “After five months foraging in the forest and pulling through, we can hold together and prevail. Strike that. We will prevail, even if we are stuck here for five months.”

  “Yes, sir!”

  “I appreciate your comments, Sergeant. I'll address it at dinner tonight. As for now, I must speak to the men you confined. Lead the way.”

  The sergeant saluted, his shoulders no longer slumped.

  A few hours later, everyone gathered in the cafeteria for dinner. Gavin stepped to the front, and all fell silent. He swallowed past the lump in his throat, focusing on what had to be said.

  “There have been . . . thoughts . . . about leaving on our own. Arguments and fights. I have news for you. We are members of the royal guard, and we aren't made of that.” Gavin turned on his full command timbre.

  Slouching soldiers in the back stood and displayed attention.

  “We work together, we eat and sleep together, and we follow orders. Together. But we have become more than that. We have civilians. Allies we once opposed in the old days. We are not a rabble of mongrels looking for handouts.”

  Gavin paced.

  All eyes stayed on him.

  “We are engaged in talks with the leaders of Subciv. Hopefully, we can present a viable plan. At the same time, we are pursuing them as allies as we have done with others. We may make decisions on a quick turn of events, but we aren't driven by emotion.”

  Everyone followed along.

  “One more thing. We lost many people back at Base. Many are dead—others, captured. It burns in my heart, and I know in yours as well.” Gavin stopped pacing and peered at everyone. He trembled. “But this isn't the time to grieve. Too much is at stake. It's not the sergeant’s job to hold things together. That burden lies with each of us. We are the Undergrounders, and we will have discipline! That is all.”

  Gavin stared directly at his entire troop, putting on his best look of assurance.

  He grabbed a tray, and everyone followed his cue to get in line. After all were seated, Gavin walked among them. He chatted, shook hands, and talked. The chatter rose.

  As he sat to eat his meal, the talkative mood warmed his heart.

  After the meal was over, Gavin rose again. “Everyone, please turn in early. We got maybe four hours of sleep last night. I expect everyone rested and alert in the morning.”

  He returned his tray and marched out. The others finished and returned to their bunks. There was little talk as the group settled and fell asleep—almost everyone slept.

  Gavin tossed and turned in his bunk, the meeting with the director playing over in his mind. The sergeant’s report percolated in his thoughts.

  Staring at the wall clock, an hour passed. Sensing no reprieve, Gavin sat up, laced his boots, and went for a walk. He went back to that corridor outside the cafeteria and stared at the food production center.

  “Can't sleep?” A tinny voice drifted.

  He glanced at Rodrina standing in the doorway, her hair and clothes a bit rumpled.

  “You could say that. How did you know I was here?”

  “I couldn't sleep either. When I saw you walk out, I decided to follow.”

  “Care for a stroll?”

  Rodrina stepped up beside him.

  They walked the corridor, entered a stairwell, and descended.

  “I went this way earlier today. They mentioned food processing, but I didn't have time to check it out.”

  Gavin pointed at the hallway they had just entered.

  “You seem curious,” Rodrina said with a smile on her face.

  “My father was a merchant who ensured I received a good education. I was always fascinated by science. If it wasn’t for a call of duty that drew me into the service, you might not recognize me.”

  “That is something I've never heard.”

  “When I tasted that first meal, I was stunned. I insisted they show me. Unable to sleep, it seemed like a great place to collect my thoughts.”

  Gavin led the way to another descending stairwell.

  They emerged at the next level and entered a large room. Rows of plants grew in tiny chambers, spread across the floor and walls. They stretched on as far as the eye could see. Crops grew without soil as small tubes dripped water on their roots. Bright, cool lights bathed the plants.

  “Well I'll be—” Gavin said as he looked around. “There must be other rooms just like this in order to grow enough for everyone.”

  They stepped out of the room, and Gavin found a bench.

  Rodrina joined him.

  He looked straight at her, deciding whether or not to share his thoughts.

  “Something is on your mind,” she said.

  “Two of my men got into an argument today. In the heat of the moment, one said there’s no point in military discipline. Maybe he’s right. If there are no more messages to send, no more raids, and no more resistance, what is our purpose here?”

  Gavin rose. He took a few steps away from Rodrina and shrugged his shoulders. “Our resistance has failed. By what right can I continue to dispense orders?”

  “We’re not done. Not by a long shot. Melicose may still be in power, but we haven't heard the outcome of his campaign in the north.”

  “I'm not sure that matters. What can we do?” His shoulders drooped.

  “You always think in military terms. The issue isn't whether or not we can topple him. Instead, we must make him appear politically weak before the people of Kelmar and his enemies.” Rodrina paused and stared closer. “But that isn't what's bothering you, is it?”

  “If people are arguing about our mandate, it's a sign of failing discipline. It's a sign—”

  “A sign of what?”

  “A sign of failed leadership. Perhaps it's time for a change.” He stared at the floor. “Rodrina, you understand the political angles so well. Maybe a civilian should be making the big decisions? These people need someone who can do more than spec out military tactics. Perhaps they need someone with a different take on, well, everything?”

  “Oh no. Not me. Gavin, you have done so much. And look at you. Think about the people that have joined us. Clarel, Snitch, me, and the others. The fact that we're more than some displaced soldiers shows your willingness to let the right people join. That is the sign of a good commander.”

  Gavin’s mouth crooked at her words, and he sat next to her.

  “Thanks. That means a lot—especially coming from you.”

  His eyes rose up and centered on Rodrina. She put her hand on his shoulder.

  “Gavin, I may disagree about you being raised a step away from elite nobility with entitlements some never had, and I may have opposed that oppressive monarchy you served. But none of that matters now because we have both been stripped of any semblance of freedom.”

  Rodrina's words warmed his heart. Sure, she often resorted to tired politicking, but he put that aside and accepted her solemn support.

  “We wouldn't have made progress without you,” he said.

  “And that means a lot, coming from you.”

  They both laughed.

  “You know, I could use some sleep. What about you?” Gavin asked.

  He stood. Rodrina joined him, and they headed toward the stairs.

  “Maybe some day we can visit their yeast plants,” he said.

  Rodrina laughed.

  “On the next bout of insomnia, we'll make a go of it.”

  They climbed the stairs and made their way back to quarters. With a silent wave, Gavin bid Rodrina to her bunk. After she was settled, he took a long look at his entire company of Undergrounders fast asleep.

  Gavin looked at them with reverence and respect, knowing their fate was in his hands. He was not as uncertain as before. With people like Clarel and Rodrina, they would find a way out.

  Pulling off his boots, Gavin climbed into his bunk and went to sleep.

  Chapter Sixteen
<
br />   An Old Wound

  The next morning, Terrell rose and joined the others for breakfast. There were no stragglers or latecomers this time, and a strong sense of order hung in the air. Everyone must have gotten enough rest.

  He picked up his tray and coffee. After he sat, Clarel approached. He waved at her to join. Rodrina soon followed, and the three of them started talking. Rodrina mentioned her escapade the night before, describing things in great detail.

  Terrell was surprised when Gavin came up from behind and clapped him on the shoulder.

  “How's it going? Getting adjusted to our chaotic life?”

  “That's one way of putting it. If you had told me back at the warehouse I'd be this deep underground two days later, I would never have joined you. And if you’d told me I’d be eating the best food ever, I would have written you off as a terrible liar.” He chuckled as he took his first bite.

  Gavin picked up his own serving. “Life has its twists and turns. Trust me. If you had turned us down, you wouldn’t have lasted a week. Especially considering your recent disappearance.” Gavin sat next to him.

  Clarel and Rodrina stopped talking, focused on him.

  Terrell paused in mid-bite, not quite sure what Gavin meant or what he should share with the others.

  “What are you talking about?” Clarel asked.

  “By now, Terrell’s name and description have been distributed to every patrol in Kelmar.” Gavin chewed on a muffin.

  “Why?” she asked.

  Gavin nodded at Terrell—an indication to share his story.

  “I used to work for Melicose and his top advisor. Gavin was ready to help me find a way out of the city, but when I told him about my former employer, he changed his mind and suggested I come along. I wasn't sold all the way but figured I could always slip out if things moved against me.” Terrell took a long sip of coffee.

  Rodrina's eyes narrowed. “What top advisor?” She stared through her round spectacles.

  “I never knew his name, but he wore a monocle and had this nervous habit of nibbling his finger—creepy all around. Anyway, I made good money at the time, but when I started skimming off the top, they caught me. Sentenced to be executed, I escaped and put the word out to Snitch.”