Vontaura

by James C. Dunn

  Rising stiffly from the bed, he clutched his side and a jarring pain shot through his shoulder. ‘Of course.’

  The bedroom door opened and Aíron, Noah, and Dimal rushed in. ‘I told you I heard something,’ the young girl said. ‘He’s awake!’

  Justus threw his legs over the side of his bed. ‘Okay, which bastard shot me?’

  Dimal and Aíron stood to one side as Noah pottered around him, forcing him back into bed and proceeding to prod, poke, and pinch each bandaged area – which appeared, ironically, to be most of him.

  ‘I have to say,’ Noah said, a few minutes later, ‘that you’re one hell of a lucky man.’

  Justus smirked. ‘So they tell me.’

  ‘But he’ll live?’ Aíron asked.

  The three burst into laughter.

  ‘It’s not funny,’ she said. ‘I haven’t slept a wink. I’ve been distraught!’

  Dimal shook her head, placing a hand on her captain’s shoulder. ‘It’s not you we’re laughing at, Aíron. It’s just, when you’ve known Justus for as long as we have, you get used to him breaking something every now and again.’

  ‘Or losing something,’ Noah added.

  Aíron frowned. ‘What?’

  Justus wiggled his foot at the end of the bed. ‘No little toe. By Jaishah, that hurt.’

  Aíron sighed and folded her arms. She proceeded to pout for a while longer as the others discussed the events of the night before. Noah explained how he’d saved the Captain’s life after making it to the safety of Vortan Manor. Then Aíron spoke, and she explained who she had seen enter the club.

  ‘Masked men . . . horrible, dark men. They attacked . . . attacked everyone. And then the old man came.’

  ‘The old man?’ he asked.

  ‘Yeah,’ Dimal said. ‘The one from Mars. The one who sent us to Erebus to save you. He’s here, Antal. Here on Earth.’

  ‘Where did he go?’

  She shook her head. ‘He said he’d be back.’

  ‘I supposed we owe him our lives,’ he said. ‘Though I’d prefer to be conscious the next time he shows up.’

  ‘The next time who shows up?’

  Lanfranc Vortan stood in the open doorway, a daytime dressing gown hung from his shoulders and down to his ankles. The cotton blue sleeves left only his fingertips showing. He stepped into the room with strict strides and a straight back.

  ‘My boy,’ he said, slowly, as though fighting back both tears and insults. ‘You’re awake. Good . . . Good to see.’

  Justus smiled. Another pain tore through his shoulder. He swallowed and watched Vortan step up to the bottom end of the four poster, hands behind his back. He said nothing, and a lump entered Justus’ throat. The old man may still be acting the same, but damn he looked old. It had been eight years but it could well have been eighteen. His lengthy brown hair had withered to a waning grey, and his face, not to mention his body, appeared more gaunt than the trees which leaned over in the decaying cemetery outside.

  ‘We’ll give you some space,’ Dimal said.

  Justus nodded, smiled. ‘Thanks.’

  Dimal pulled Noah and Aíron from the bedroom and glanced back in as she closed the door behind. Vortan remained at the end of the bed and Justus didn’t look keen to move. Seeing the two of them together made a few things clearer, at least. If this man had brought Justus up then it certainly explained her captain’s desire to leave; and it would appear the air of occasional hostility had not be lost in the inheritance.

  The three made their way downstairs. They’d already explored some of the manor the day before. It was so huge they’d almost lost themselves. The whole north wing was closed down due to disrepair, which meant when they were not sat with Justus, they had been confined to the many studies, libraries, and great empty hallways of the manor house.

  It being mid-afternoon, Aíron was already complaining of an empty stomach, so they meandered through the manor in the direction of the kitchen, from which had been issuing an unfamiliar-but-welcome smell. Once there they found two female kitchen staff – one old and grey, the other young and simple – in the middle of preparing dinner.

  The younger girl took Aíron aside to find her something to eat and drink, and Dimal and Noah sat at a small table at the end of the kitchen.

  ‘Can I grab anything for the two of you?’ the old cook asked.

  ‘No, thanks,’ Dimal said.

  ‘Nor me,’ Noah said.

  ‘Beg your pardon, my lady,’ she said. ‘Would you mind if I switched on the Von-comm? We’re awaiting a transmission any minute now.’

  Dimal shook her head. ‘Don’t call me lady, though. Adra’s fine.’

  The old woman moved back to her duties and Dimal turned to Noah. ‘Von-comm?’ she said.

  Noah shrugged his shoulders, frowned. ‘Who cares?’

  ‘Okay. Well, we—’

  ‘I know you two are lying!’ he said.

  ‘Lying? I don’t know what you—’

  ‘Something’s going on,’ he snapped. ‘And you and the captain aren’t being honest.’

  Dimal said nothing. He’d caught her off guard. The sound of the Von-comm played to itself in the background; the cook had left the room carrying a large tray of cutlery.

  ‘Ever since Erebus,’ he said. ‘Ever since that place, that planet, whatever went on down there, neither of you have been the same. The captain especially. I don’t expect you to tell all. But give me the respect of not lying to my face.’

  She nodded slowly, having never seen him so incensed. His face had flushed scarlet. He breathed out and walked to the kitchen window. Dimal followed him and looked out of the glass-plated arch. In the distance, maybe half a mile, tall trees stood beyond a high stone wall, and laid unevenly in between like a beggar’s teeth, hundreds of tombstones stared back.

  Noah shivered. ‘I don’t like it here. I think we should leave.’

  She placed a hand on his shoulder. ‘We’re safer here than we are anywhere else. The Von’s a powerful man by the looks of it.’

  ‘That’s what worries me. I don’t trust the powerful. If he’s the captain’s family that merely means Justus is safe. Not us. You saw how he greeted us.’

  ‘Noah,’ she said.

  ‘Mm-hmm?’

  ‘You’re from the Third System, right? You’re from Accentauria?’

  ‘Yes.’ His head didn’t move.

  ‘I . . .’ Dimal hesitated. She had promised Justus she wouldn’t mention it, but what they had read on Luna had been eating away at her.

  ‘Why do you ask?’

  ‘Which world are you from?’ she asked, eyeing the carving knives laid out on the surface nearby. Was she just being silly?

  ‘Does it matter?’

  ‘No. But just out of interest . . . it wasn’t Mar-Andra, was it?’

  Noah spun. Panic filled his already-blushing face. ‘How do you . . .’

  ‘Accident,’ she said. ‘Up on Luna. Long story. You didn’t tell us you were a wanted man.’

  ‘Can you blame me?’

  ‘For murder?’

  ‘You’ve committed plenty of that yourself!’

  ‘Now hold on! I never killed a member of my family!’

  He laughed, eyes suddenly unsettling. ‘Well I’m sure that makes it just fine then.’

  ‘So you admit you did it?’

  Noah turned to look out of the window. With his back turned, Dimal decided she was taking no chances. She reached out and picked up the long knife nearby. But Noah’s hand shot out and knocked it from her grasp. In his hand was a glistening meat cleaver. She attempted to step past him, but he moved towards her, backing her into the wall.

  He shook his head. ‘I thought we were a crew. I thought I’d found a family. I thought we trusted each other.’

  ‘We do,’ she said. ‘We are.’

  ‘Then why?’

  ‘Because I couldn’t just ignore what I read. Justus wanted to give you the benefit of the doubt. But . . . I couldn’t.’ />
  Still holding the blade, he looked up into her eyes. ‘Shame on you, Adra Dimal. I don’t have to explain myself to you. But, for the record, I am not responsible for my family’s death. Though it appears that doesn’t stop me taking the blame. Shame on you for not trusting your own family.’ And with that he placed the cleaver onto the table and stormed out of the room.

  She breathed heavily and didn’t move, replaying the exchange in her head. Something had happened with his family. Maybe it was the reason he had run away. True or not, she had been the one to come away from the altercation feeling worse. Maybe that was what being a crew was all about: giving each other the benefit of the doubt, whether or not you believed them.

  Five minutes later the old cook returned to the kitchen, turned up the audio Von-comm, and began rummaging through a large basket of vegetables. Another ten and Aíron returned with the younger cook, tucking into a plate of cheese and crackers. Dimal declined the offer of a taste and held a hand to her temple, nodding and smiling falsely in humour as the young girl chatted away.

  Half an hour later and Noah still hadn’t returned. She began to feel a little hungry herself, and considered going back up to Justus’ room, when her ears picked up on the last thing she’d expected to hear.

  ‘Quiet!’ she told Aíron, and jumped down from her seat. ‘Cook . . . err. . . lady . . . what is this comm playing?’

  The elderly woman continued chopping her carrots. ‘Why, the Von-comm dear!’

  ‘What’s the Von-comm?’

  ‘The Von-comm,’ she said. ‘An update from the Von.’

  ‘An update about what?’

  ‘The Vontaura, of course.’

  ‘The what?’

  ‘Where’ve you been?’ she said. ‘Off world?’

  ‘Yeah, off world. Is this comm live?’

  ‘Yes, my lady.’

  ‘Can you record it?’

  ‘Already have, dear. The Master has them all recorded so he can listen to them in the lounge after dinner. Exciting times!’

  ‘Good,’ Dimal said. ‘Aíron, come on. We have to find Noah and the Cap’n.’

  ‘Why?’ the girl asked, clambering down.

  ‘You wouldn’t understand.’

  Aíron pouted. ‘Why not?’

  ‘Because we’ve not been honest with you. But we need to be.’

  ‘Adra, Adra, what did you hear?’

  ‘The answer,’ she said. ‘And the reason we came to Earth.’

  TWENTY-FIVE

  JUSTUS SIGHED, LOUD and lengthy, at the painful silence which hung between him and his stepfather. Vortan sat in a chair, twiddling his thumbs and staring out the window. Justus considered feigning falling asleep, and had been for the past hour. Every so often Vortan would look across at him, smile awkwardly, attempt to begin a sentence with a mumbled ‘So, my boy’ and then return to twiddling his thumbs. After a while he appeared to gather the nerve to speak, whether or not it was a hit or miss topic.

  ‘Forces,’ he said, or rather, mumbled.

  ‘Huh?’

  ‘Earth Forces. It’s for the best that we do not let them see you’re back. Be after your head, they will. You caused them some grief taking off with their craft and destroying it as you did.’

  ‘Oh,’ he said. ‘Yeah, I’d forgotten about that. I got a little too excited during takeoff.’

  ‘I saw the report, son. Earth Forces followed me for months on end after you disappeared. They never let me be. They believed I was harbouring you. Oh, how frustrated they were.’

  ‘I’m sorry for the hassle—’

  ‘The hassle? My boy, hassle I could have dealt with. What you left me with was regret. I know what you did to your mother. I know the forces demanded your head for it. Part of me was relieved for her. And part of me was relieved when you disappeared. I never wanted a jail cell for you, Antal. And now you’re back, my boy . . .’

  ‘Now I’m back. And I’m willing to face up to it all, once I’ve carried out another promise.’

  Vortan nodded awkwardly, and went back to twiddling his thumbs.

  When Dimal rushed into the room Justus sat up, relieved and grinning widely. ‘Adra, come in.’

  ‘Say nothing!’ she hissed.

  ‘What?’

  Aíron followed her in and stood timidly nearby.

  ‘Is there a problem?’ Vortan said.

  ‘I think there is, Lanfranc.’

  ‘Von Vortan will do. Do not forget where you are.’

  ‘Whatever,’ she said. ‘We got access to the Von-comm recording up here?’

  Though obviously taken aback, Vortan stood up from his chair and walked over to a bookshelf opposite the bed. ‘Every room does,’ he said, irritably. ‘Is there something you wish to tell us?’

  Justus watched as Dimal moved towards the bed and took her captain’s hand. ‘What is it?’ he asked. She said nothing and lifted his left arm. Rolling down his sleeve she presented the Moon and Triangle to Vortan. ‘What’re you doing?’ Justus said, pulling away and covering his wrist. He looked from Dimal to his stepfather, but Vortan’s face had frozen. ‘What is it?’ Justus said. ‘Father?’

  ‘Not you too,’ Vortan said. He backed into the shelves, knocking an entire shelf to the floor.

  ‘What?’

  ‘They got you too.’

  ‘Who got me?’

  ‘Them.’

  Justus looked from Aíron to Dimal, and then back to Vortan. ‘Who’s them?’

  ‘The Order,’ spoke a voice from the doorway, ‘of the Allied Moon.’ Justus stared, bewildered, as Noah stepped into the room. ‘The Allied Moon, and now first in line for Vontaura.’

  Vortan took a step forward. ‘What are you—’

  Dimal’s blaster was in her hand, aimed for the Von.

  ‘Show us,’ Noah said.

  ‘Show us what?’ Justus said. ‘Put the blaster down, Adra.’

  ‘Show us, Vortan,’ Noah repeated.

  Vortan shook his head.

  Dimal triggered her weapon.

  ‘All right,’ the Von said, holding his arms up. With his right hand he reached across to his left, and rolled the sleeve down to reveal a dark Moon and Triangle.

  Antal Justus stared in disbelief. He didn’t know what to say.

  ‘It’s not . . . not . . . you don’t understand,’ Vortan said.

  Dimal scoffed. ‘Do we not? Forgive me, Antal, if I don’t take a shot at him right now.’

  ‘No one’s shooting anyone!’ he said, stumbling out of bed and forcing her to put the blaster away. He turned to his stepfather. ‘I think you should sit back down.’ Silent moments passed. Justus stood in front of them all and turned to Vortan. ‘Why do you have the symbol? What do you know about Erebus?’

  ‘Erebus? My boy, I’ve never heard of it. But I’m not one of them. Where did they find you? How long have you been part of it?’

  ‘Noah,’ Justus said, ‘what’s going on?’

  Noah cleared his throat. ‘That symbol, the one you both have, is the mark of the Order of the Allied Moon.’

  ‘The moon is our ally,’ he said.

  ‘That’s right,’ Dimal said. ‘I heard it downstairs on the Von-comm. Then I found Noah.’ She looked to him and nodded. ‘And we broke into the Von’s bedroom.’

  ‘You did what?’ The Von was back on his feet. ‘How dare you!’

  ‘With relative ease actually,’ she said with a smile.

  ‘So this Order,’ Justus said.

  ‘Is responsible for everything that happened on Erebus,’ Noah said. ‘It’s okay, Justus. Dimal’s told me and Aíron everything. It’s time we trusted each other.’ He stood tall, cleared his throat. ‘I, Noah Julian Nuveen, am wanted for several murders of which I did not—’

  ‘Oh, shut up, Noah,’ Dimal said, causing his sentence to fizzle into a squeak. ‘We’ll talk about that another time.’

  Noah nodded, turned back to Justus. He pulled out of his pocket a small-screened book-mag and threw it to him. ‘Take a loo
k. Vortan’s digital records. We found it in his room. It lists messages to and from this manor. I’ve highlighted the last two. Both from yesterday.’

  ‘No!’ Vortan said. ‘I didn’t know it was you. If I’d known . . .’

  Justus pressed a switch and a recording began to play. A protest of static. Shuffles and scrapes, then:

  —Von Vortan here. What is it?

  —I’m sorry to disturb you, my Lord Von, but I believe there is something you should know. It was a woman’s voice, stern and strong. This is Record Keeper Watho, from the Record Centre upon Luna, Athenaeum Hall Seventeen.

  —Make it quick. It’s getting late. What is it?

  —We’ve had intruders. A male and a female. They were looking for you, named you personally, said they were old friends of yours. They were lying. The female assaulted me.

  —Do we have an image? Covert recordings?

  —Yes, but not clear enough to identify them. Security have informed me that the male carried your mark.

  —The Order’s mark?

  —Yes. It was for that reason they were not stopped, but a tracking device has been planted inside their craft. We are following their movements down to the planet itself.

  —The Athenaeum is my jurisdiction. Vortan’s voice came through clear and maddened. Track them and take them. I want to remain uninvolved. The Lord Córonat has just returned to Earth. Contact his people and they will take care of it. That is all.

  The message ended.

  Justus said nothing, breathed deeply, pressed the second highlighted message. A few more shuffles, followed by:

  —What now?!

  —My Lord Von. We found them.

  —And?

  —We have two. The others escaped.

  —Find them then. You know what you’re doing.

  —We already have. Two are in custody. We’re tracking the others via a vehicle they stole on route nine. Four of them. Heading towards the city.

  —Well in that case find them and follow the necessary paths. This should have left my knowledge once they stepped foot off my Athenaeum.

  —Apologies, Lord Vortan.

  —Don’t apologize. Just take care of them.

  —Of course.

  The connection died.

  Justus dropped the book-mag onto the bed and joined the others in staring at Vortan.

  The Von remained seated. ‘I didn’t know. I swear, if I had known.’

  ‘You ordered the attack. You had our friends taken.’

  ‘No.’

  ‘My ship destroyed!’