Elite

by Allen Stroud

  ‘No matter, they are a small inconvenience and will be gone shortly,’ Walden said. ‘Even if they were to stop the ships here, most have left already and will complete their journeys in less than an hour.’

  ‘Was this all a test?’ Bertrum asked.

  ‘Not really,’ Walden replied. ‘You’d convinced me of your ignorance right up until the moment you accessed the security system, triggering the camera surveillance in this room. It still baffles me why you’d betrayed me like this.’

  ‘You put a toxin in the harvest ...’ Bertrum said.

  ‘Actually no, I put a genetically engineered virus into the harvest,’ Walden explained, ‘a virus that took decades to perfect and test. I had to render a species extinct, wiping out the habitat and every trace of genetic code, then develop an antidote and secretly introduce it to an entire planet. Quite a bit more complex as I’m sure you appreciate.’

  ‘But ... why?’

  ‘You know why, Prefect Kowl,’ Walden replied. ‘I told you of a plan to restore Lave to her rightful place. You were to be an essential part of the strategy. In fact, I offered you total dominion over Lave. I’m astonished you gave all this up to defy me.’ He held out his hand. ‘Datacard please.’

  The guard with James hauled the boy onto his feet and he opened the dataplate with trembling hands, giving the tiny card to the security man who let him go and walked over to Walden.

  ‘Thank you. This must have been difficult to obtain.’ Walden took the device and put it in his mouth, biting through the membrane and spat out the resultant mess. ‘I’m sure one last view of your wife before you join her was a romantic thing.’

  ‘I doubt ... you know what the word means ...’

  ‘No, you’re probably right, an unnecessary distraction.’ Walden stared at Pietro who held the gaze while trying to keep his breathing deep and regular. ‘I am aware of your talents. The oxygen ratio in this room has been reduced by a considerable amount.’

  ‘I noticed,’ Pietro replied.

  ‘Good,’ Walden said and smiled behind the vapour cloud. ‘When I leave, we will reduce the mix even further, inducing hypoxia. I’m told it is a particularly painful way to die. After that, your remains are to be incinerated.’

  ‘Very thorough,’ Pietro said. He glanced at James who had collapsed against the wall. ‘Him as well?’

  ‘Of course,’ Walden said, ‘him especially. I know all about the talents of James Gibson. In fact, he should already be dead, long before either of you.’ He turned to James. ‘You recall your brief visit to my school, don’t you?’

  ‘More like a prison,’ James said.

  ‘Perhaps the reason you failed the evaluation,’ Walden said. ‘A shame, my family would gain much from studying you.’

  ‘That also why you tried to kill me?’

  ‘Of course,’ Walden replied. ‘Talent like yours has to be harnessed or eliminated.’

  ‘You infected me with the virus,’ Pietro said.

  ‘You infected yourself by staying with Second after he died,’ Walden said. ‘A pity, I would have liked to monitor you and watch the disease develop, but we have done extensive testing already.’

  Atticus Finch was Second, Pietro realised. ‘Does First lead you?’ he asked.

  ‘Mister Devander, I’m afraid there isn’t time to indulge your—’

  At that moment, Bertrum screamed and threw himself at Walden, sending them both crashing to the floor. Pietro rolled away making a grab for the pistol he’d dropped. A gunshot rang out and his left leg went numb. Don’t think about it! He got a hand to the pistol, flipped over and pressed the trigger, then turned to the right and fired again. Both security guards dropped.

  Pietro tried to get up, but couldn’t. His hands shook, where they had been rock steady a second before. He fought to stay focused. Oxygen deprivation, sleep deprivation, water deprivation and anti-interrogation were all things he’d trained in. He remembered the strange basic tasks drill in rarified atmosphere chambers. Understanding your body and managing its limitations was the key. ‘James ...’ he called out, in a rasping tone, just above a whisper. ‘James ...’

  There was a grunt from the direction of the chair; a muffled cry and a gurgling noise, then silence.

  ‘Walden’s dead,’ Bertrum announced.

  ‘Good,’ Pietro said.

  * * *

  The huge Imperial Dreadnought filled the observation window of the Furnace. The Artifice was listing badly to port, flash fires bursting over the entire stern as Eagle fighters strafed the unshielded hull.

  ‘Seems you were right, Ambassador,’ Jander remarked. ‘She’s struggling to maneuver.’

  ‘An easy conclusion, Admiral,’ Godwina replied. ‘They were never designed for this kind of engagement.’

  A chain reaction began, from power station to power station along the Dreadnought’s spine, cracking the ship apart into huge chunks of blackened debris and raising a cheer from the bridge crew of the Furnace. A shudder went through the carrier as she began to slide to starboard. ‘Full charge to shields,’ Jander ordered, leaning over the rail to the pilot ensign. ‘Co-ordinate maneuvers with the battle group.’

  ‘Large data transmission coming through, Admiral,’ Lieutenant Cassom announced.

  ‘From who?’ Jander asked.

  ‘The space station,’ Cassom replied. ‘I’m ... Admiral, I think you’re going to want to watch this.’

  Jander made his way down the steps from the command post to the lower bridge, to stand next to the lieutenant. A woman’s face appeared on the screen.

  ‘At this stage we have no reason to trust any senior figure in the planetary administration ...’

  The film continued to play. To Jander, the busy bridge of the Furnace at combat alert disappeared. When it ended he realised he was gripping the rail with white knuckles. He uncurled his cramping left hand. ‘Get a high priority signal to Alioth immediately,’ he ordered.

  Cassom looked terrified, clearly struggling with the implication of the film. ‘What shall I tell—’

  ‘Just get the channel,’ Jander said. ‘Any connection you can manage and whatever it takes. We need a minister on the line, right now.’

  * * *

  The sound of scraping and tearing into the Cobra’s hull grew louder with every second. Heldaban Kel sat hunched over the controls, desperately trying to turn and twist away from the Vipers, but they had him, buzzing around the ship, taking it in turns to pour in the autocannon fire, making his shields overload.

  Not so slutty now.

  In front, a vast tangle of Anaconda transports, set against the huge orb of the planet. The Orange Star fleet, freighters panicking as the Phoenix Brigade fought dogfights with more LaveSec Vipers.

  I’m not going to make it.

  The comms panel beeped. He keyed up the transmission and a woman appeared on a holoscreen. The words were unintelligible over the Cobra’s damaged engine howl, but the message ID was a surprise.

  That came from Lave Station ...

  The viewscreen lit up as a Viper exploded, then another and another. Kel ducked instinctively as the large shape of a Panther clipper soared past. The comms beeped again. ‘Faith here, glad for the assist?’

  ‘Definitely,’ Kel replied. ‘We need to form up and make for the Alliance ships.’

  ‘You sure they’ll want to see us?’

  ‘No,’ Kel said. ‘But they’re our best bet for getting away alive.’

  * * *

  With unsteady fingers, Pietro hauled himself along the carpet towards the nearest dead guard and unclipped the respirator, strapping it around his own neck. Instinctively, he took a deep breath of the oxygen cloud. He knew the effect would take a few minutes. Carefully, he retrieved the cannister and kept moving, over to the second corpse, retrieving the other breather and crawled over to James. By the time he got to there, he felt better; every beat of his heart circulated the enriched air into his body, but made his leg throb. He guessed he’d been shot.


  ‘James?’

  The boy was still conscious, but barely. Pietro held the breather over him. Gradually his eyes came back into focus. ‘Are we alive?’ he asked.

  ‘Looks like,’ Pietro said. ‘How are you feeling?’

  ‘Pretty sick,’ James said. He sat up slowly and caught sight of the dead security guard. ‘You killed—’

  ‘I had to, you get the files out?’

  I think so.’

  Pietro breathed steadily, ignoring the pulsing pain in his leg. ‘I need your help. One of them shot me.’

  ‘What about Walden?’

  Pietro glanced around, neither Bertrum nor Walden were moving. ‘I think he’s dead too, but this isn’t over, we must show the people.’

  ‘Show them?’

  Pietro grimaced as he twisted to examine at his leg. An increasingly large pool of bright red blood stained the floor and he knew what that meant from experience. Femoral artery wound.

  ‘James, we need some kind of material to make a tourniquet with.’

  ‘A what?’

  ‘A tourniquet,’ Pietro repeated, ‘a bandage with pressure that stops the bleeding, otherwise …’ he swallowed. ‘Otherwise I may not be much use for long. Someone heard the gunshots. They’ll send people pretty soon.’

  James stared at him. His eyes went to the wound and the blood. ‘I’m not sure I can—’

  ‘James, there’s no one else.’

  The boy’s lips were quivering, his eyes filled and a tear rolled down his pale cheek. ‘What do I do?’

  ‘Your shirt,’ Pietro said, ‘rip off the sleeves and knot them together.’

  James did as he was told and shuffled over. ‘This to go over the wound?’ he asked.

  ‘No,’ Pietro replied, ‘above, to cut off the artery, then a bandage over it.’

  ‘Okay,’ James said. He twisted the shirt fabric into a rope and wrapped in around Pietro’s leg along the upper thigh. He pulled the material tight, making Pietro hiss in pain through clenched teeth. ‘Sorry,’ he added.

  ‘Can’t be helped,’ Pietro said, ‘just hope it works.’

  James wiped the blood away with the rest of the shirt. ‘What about the bullet?’ he asked.

  ‘It’ll keep for now,’ Pietro said. The sensation of weakness returned. He took a deep breath from the respirator. The compressed oxygen cannisters would run out quickly. They needed to restore the room atmosphere fast or get out, if they were going to survive. ‘I need you to help me move Walden,’ Pietro explained. ‘We must get him in front of the camera.’

  James stood up, clutching the oxygen cannister in his hand and went over to where Walden and Bertum lay in a heap. He knelt over them as Pietro pulled himself across the floor. When he got close, he found the boy’s hands were covered in blood from a knife wound in Walden’s neck.

  ‘The prefect stabbed him,’ James said.

  Pietro grabbed the side of the chair and pushed himself up into a sitting position. He took hold of Bertrum’s wrist. He found a faint pulse, but the man wasn’t breathing. He glanced at Walden’s dead face. The respirator had been cut through. ‘We’ll have to leave him,’ Pietro said.

  ‘But he’ll die.’

  ‘Might be that’s what he wanted,’ Pietro said.

  He got his hands under Walden’s shoulders and together they lifted him into the seat. Pietro pulled himself up alongside, while James went back to the control console. ‘Still transmitting?’

  ‘Yes,’ James said. ‘You’re live to the planet.’ He pointed up above the viewscreen wall and Pietro just made out an electronic light, the camera. He straightened up and stared directly at it.

  ‘People of Lave, Doctor Hans Walden is dead.’ Pietro glanced at the body and back at the camera. He raised his voice. ‘This is your chance to be free, to reclaim your planet.’ He let go of the chair and stood up, grimacing at the pain in his leg. ‘All your lives you’ve been lied to, your parents were lied to and their parents, betrayed.’ He glanced at James who smiled and nodded. ‘There are people amongst you, brave people who want to liberate Lave. Even now, Alliance ships are in the system,’ I hope Walden wasn’t lying. ‘They’re here to help you ... to fight for you ... but you must show them you want this, to change the world that is rightfully yours.’

  He slipped. His injured leg couldn’t take the weight. He glanced at the floor. The wound was bleeding again, his blood mixed with Walden’s on the plascrete tiles. He turned to James. ‘Turn it off,’ he said.

  James pressed some buttons and the two red lights disappeared. ‘Now what?’

  ‘What access do you have to the station controls?’ Pietro asked.

  James shrugged. ‘From here I can override most of the systems, but I don’t know how much time we’ll have before they—’

  ‘Deactivate the shield,’ Pietro said. ‘Overload the power or something, so they can’t restart it, then we try the door.’

  ‘Might take a few minutes to get into the system,’ James said.

  Pietro picked up the discarded pistol and checked the magazine. Ten shots left. He moved around the chair and into a sitting position facing the door. ‘Don’t take too long,’ he said.

  * * *

  Extract from datalog archive: Graham Terminal, Tau Ceti.

  Observation: subject is quiet but nervous, been sitting waiting for forty-five minutes.

  Rossin:

  ‘Freighter Ident: A0008976284V – Vindication approached station exterior dock at 14.00 hours local time, (10.00 hours space standard). Hails and report controls were all correct. No reason to interfere with transit, so I keyed green and granted docking permission.

  Priority transmission from the stationmaster came through to halt the procedure, but automated coupling had already been deployed. Any override might have been dangerous, so I allowed completion and awaited further instructions.’

  TauSec:

  ‘Why didn’t you seal the freighter access ports?’

  Rossin:

  ‘Protocol dictates we do that when there’s a quarantine alert. There wasn’t one.’

  TauSec:

  ‘But there was five minutes later.’

  Rossin:

  ‘Yes, but I wasn’t to know.’

  TauSec:

  ‘What about the cargo scan?’

  Rossin:

  ‘What about it?’

  TauSec:

  ‘Our records show a scan report was submitted, but the station sensor array was never activated.’

  Observation: subject no longer maintaining eye contact.

  Rossin:

  ‘Am I under arrest?’

  TauSec:

  ‘Mister Rossin, three weeks ago you received a substantial credit payment from an account registered with the Bank of Zaonce. Care to explain what that was for?’

  Rossin:

  ‘I want a lawyer.’

  Chapter 38: The Decision

  The screen went dark.

  Admiral Jander folded his arms and stared for several moments, weighing up what he’d learned.

  ‘Minister Merion is on hyperspace wave, Admiral,’ Cassom said.

  Jander nodded and turned to Ennis. ‘Commander, you have the bridge. Best speed to the station, target as soon as you’re in range.’

  Ennis frowned. ‘You sure about this, Admiral?’

  Jander glared at him. ‘That was an order.’

  ‘Yes sir.’

  He took the steps two at a time, heading for the senior officers’ briefing room, pausing only to touch Ambassador Godwina on the shoulder. ‘With me.’

  Wordlessly she followed him through the doors. Jander went straight to the desk and brought up the transmission. Merion’s face appeared projected over the table, perfect hair and an irritated expression.’ Admiral, this is highly unusual, I don’t think that—’

  ‘Minister, sorry for disturbing you,’ Jander said. ‘The Imperial ambassador to Lave is with me. We are currently in the system. I assume you received the data package we rela
yed from the station?’

  ‘It’s coming through now, Admiral,’ Merion said, his eyes flicking away from the screen. ‘We haven’t had time to digest—’

  ‘Then I’ll save you the trouble. The Lavian grain arriving in Alioth in the next hour is contaminated with a viral toxin manufactured here. You need to impound the freighter immediately and get word to every other system with a deal. You’ll find a list in the attached files, but that isn’t the reason I requested a live link.’

  ‘Then what do you want, Admiral?’

  ‘We’re in transit to Lave Station right now. I need oversight approval to remove the sovereign government.’

  Merion’s expression darkened. ‘I can’t grant you that.’

  ‘Minister, I have reason to believe a populist insurrection is underway on the planet surface and conclusive evidence of terrorism practised against signatories to the Alliance treaty.’ His eyes flicked to Godwina who nodded her approval. ‘I have corroboration from the representative of Emperor Duval. This situation is unprecedented, I need your support.’

  ‘I’ll need to digest this, Admiral,’ Merion said, looking uncomfortable, his eyes flicking off screen.

  Jander slammed his hands on the table, making the image quiver. ‘There isn’t time,’ he said, managing to keep his voice calm, icy calm. ‘I gave you an appraisal of the situation and recommended action, I need your support.’

  ‘I’m sorry I can’t—’

  Jander pressed a button and the transmission cut off, leaving an uneasy silence. Outside the room, he heard Ennis shouting orders at the bridge crew, where I should be, he thought.

  ‘Was that wise?’ Godwina asked.

  ‘Probably not,’ Jander said, ‘but it had to be done.’

  * * *

  Each blow on the control room doors made them shudder and Gebrial wince. She huddled in the corner in darkness, squeezing the hands she held in her own.

  They could hear muffled shouting outside, then gunshots and the thump of grenades. Only a matter of time, she thought.

  She glanced down at the dataslate, the word processing remained on the screen. No one will even remember what happened, no one will care. She remembered the tunnels she’d lived in at Solati, watching people walk around the station and live their lives. Here it was the same, they were locked away as the world turned on the other side of the door, but in Solati, no one had reason to break into the isolated bubble until Pietro came. Now, they were in Ashoria’s power control room and there were plenty of reasons.