The
Rebels - Chapter 2
Adrian
had speculated, in a detached, scientific way, how it would feel to have his
atoms energized and passed along a stream of controlled energy pulses. If only
he had a scanner or some way to measure it. Would he feel his body ripped apart
molecule by molecule, or would—
That
had been his last, fleeting thought before stepping through the gate and
breathing in a blast of arctic air. He wheezed, and Kali and Bryce made similar
retching sounds nearby.
The
late day sun sparkled off blinding white snow, like a carpet littered with
diamonds. An ancient pine forest stretched out in spindly shadows behind them
and twin, snow-capped mountains rose in the distance. Each breath filled them
with the heady scent of pine and the musky, earthy odor of living things.
Adrian
shivered, hunching his shoulders. His black fitted tunic with its thick weave
was heavy with the authority of the Empire, but the weather didn’t seem
impressed. A wash of pain muscled past the endorphin rush and he gritted his
teeth, sucking in a sharp hiss. Sticky warmth coated his fingers.
“Is
everyone alright?” he rasped.
“I’m
fine,” said Kali, squeezing her collar together with one hand while unclipping
the medical scanner from her belt. Her lips pursed as a diagram of his arm
appeared on the screen and data scrolled down a gray-backed partition on the
right. “It’s not a serious wound, but we need to
stop
the bleeding.” The scanner snicked back into place on her belt.
“Snow?
We landed in snow?” grumbled Bryce, who was the only one who found himself sunk
into a foot of the downy white stuff. He stamped it viciously. “Even if hell
did freeze over, did we have to come here? Couldn’t we have gone somewhere
warmer?”
He
winced when Kali flipped open the flap of the medical pouch and drew out a
laser knife.
“Where
is ‘here’?” asked Kali, slicing the torn sleeve to expose the blackened slash
across the arm.
Adrian
looked away from the operation, squinting as he scanned their surroundings.
“We’re on Orasis Quad, a planet in the Luo System.”
A
long-necked bird peered at them from a gnarled branch, whooping a welcome, or
it might have been a warning for invading its territory.
“I’ve
never heard of it.”
“Hopefully,
neither has anyone else. It’s a Tech-4 world on the Outer Rim with a low grade
source of Tri-Iridium ore.”
Bryce
blew into his cupped hands. “Sounds like a boring place. Probably doesn’t even
have a decent bar.”
There
was something different about the air, a freshness, an energy Adrian never
noticed onboard ships or under the domes on Earth; he felt naked, exposed
without walls and a ceiling overhead. Such idyllic surroundings didn’t seem
real after what they had just experienced.
Bryce
looked around like a nervous jack-rabbit, his nose twitching. “Shouldn’t we get
out of here? I mean, the soldiers were right behind us.
They
could land on top of us. Or in us.” He shuddered.
A
glance passed between Adrian and Kali and even without telepathy, he knew she
was thinking of their close call. The image of her brave stance had burned into
his memory.
“No
need. The energy required to transport our signals to this sector would have
overloaded the power grid. In addition, I programmed the targeting computer to
erase our coordinates after we stepped through the gate. They cannot follow us
and they don’t know where we are.”
“That’s
brilliant!”
“Moderately.”
Rummaging
through her kit, Kali pressed an injector to his neck and with a faint hiss,
pressure-forced molecules passed through his skin to be absorbed into his
bloodstream. The affect was instant and burning pain eased to a dull throb.
Next, she played a crystal-blue beam over the
gash
with an antiseptic wand and angry red flesh lightened to healing pink.
“You
really had me going there,” said Bryce. There was a generous splash of
admiration in his voice. “I almost believed you were going to kill yourself and
that you changed the laser probe into a lethal weapon.”
“I
was, and I did.” Adrian noticed Kali’s momentary glance.
“What?”
Bryce’s mouth dropped open. “Tell me you’re kidding.”
“I
am not in the habit of ‘kidding’.” He said the word as if it were a disgusting
practice, on par with picking one’s nose in public.
“Haven’t
you ever heard of bluffing?”
“I’m
familiar with the concept.”
Bryce
rubbed his hands together. “I think it’s time we taught you a little game
called poker.”
“I
don’t understand how a frivolous pastime will help in this situation.”
“It’s
not about the game. It’s about learning to pretend that you have an advantage
when you don’t, or pretending you don’t have one when you do.”
“You
mean deception.”
“Now
you’re getting it.” Bryce smiled as if he’d just got a point across to a
particularly dense pupil.
“I
do not lie,” said Adrian. “The Admiral believed the threat because of that
fact.”
Bryce
sighed while a bird chirruped a musical laugh nearby. “You don’t get it. It’s
not lying. It’s called strategy so you can win.”
“In
the same way using violence and coercion is considered a strategy.”
“Yes.
I mean…no. Never mind.”
“I
already have.”
“At
least it worked, however it worked. Now how about getting us out of here?”
That
was a very good question, one to which Adrian only had a vague answer. He
looked off in the distance, seeking inspiration instead of the expectant,
trusting eyes that stirred rocks in the pit of his stomach.
Stick
to what you’re good at, Lieutenant. Science, numbers, computers, anything that
doesn’t deal with the living.
The
Admiral was right. He had no business taking care of others, to make them pay
for his mistakes.
A
rustle of wind found his open collar and flapped it aside, exposing bare flesh
to the biting cold. He was finally free of the Empire, and despite his best
laid plans, it felt as if a vital chord had snapped and he was cast adrift into
the void. He was finally and completely, alone, and it
sent
a shiver deep into his bones, burying itself in his marrow.
You
are not alone, Adrian. Kali’s words were a warm wave flowing into
his mind, surprisingly forceful yet it eased gently around the hard core of
stone at his center.
Her
mental presence glowed with the brilliance of the sun through a wispy cloud,
her image coalescing, and she wore, not the severe black uniform, but a silky
cream robe that swirled around her ankles. Golden specks danced in her eyes and
his breath hitched; he knew they had always been there if only he let himself
see them.
You
will never be alone again.
The
next breath triggered a shudder of darkness, emanating from the pit where he
buried his deepest, darkest secrets; the despair and soultearing agony of a man
who had always been a puppet for others.
“No.”
His hands clenched, crushing her smaller ones. He let go in surprise, but her
hand laced with his.
“Adrian.”
Her smoky voice touched his ears and echoed in his mind, crisp as a bell.
He
shook his head firmly. “I cannot.”
There
was something wrong with him; he was certain of it now, ever since Dr. Rayburn
came back into his life, reminding him of a chapter that had been locked away
from him since childhood. That the Empire locked
away; taking his memories as easily as tearing a sheet of paper.
Now
he was frozen by emotions that threatened to rip apart the thin fabric of his
self-control, leaving it a tattered joke. He could not let them win. For the
sake of the others, he could not lose his greatest advantage.
“I’m
alright.” He tried to sound convincing but the words were hollow and he kept
his eyes averted.
The
Empire had conditioned him to serve and he had unknowingly fought it all his
life. How many times had they hauled him back in? How many times did they have
to reprogram the machine until it obeyed? A grim smile thinned his lips. Not
enough times.
No
wonder the Admiral was fuming. It wasn’t just his insolence that infuriated
her, it was something far more profound. The tool was not functioning within
acceptable parameters. His hand tensed, curling but not to the point of a fist.
The
others must never know. He didn’t want to slam the door to Kali’s presence, but
if she remained any longer, her perceptive mind would begin to ask questions he
preferred to leave unanswered.
With
a firm tug, Adrian extracted his hands from her grip and assumed the clinical
hardness he was able to slip on like a mask. “We need to find shelter before
nightfall.”
There
was hesitation as her eyes searched his. “Where are we going?” she finally
asked.
“To
Pekanus. It’s a small town approximately five kilometers from here, on the
other side of the forest.”
“Finally,”
said an exuberant Bryce. “I hope this place has a bar.”
“I’m
sure you will find one,” said Adrian.
~~~
High
Admiral Andrew Tennyson arched, stretching a tight lower back. He logged off
and pushed the monitor arm away, taking the rare luxury of loosening his collar
as he leaned back.
His
office was less ornate than some others on the Fleet Council, but what it
lacked in lush décor, it made up in the latest technology. Screens spanned two
walls, curved slightly inward. A bank of monitors lined the third, each with a
direct connection to a vital Empire command point.
The
intercom buzzed. Third light meant his personal assistant.
Tennyson
answered, “What is it, Taylor?”
The
young man appeared, wearing the freshly pressed uniform of an ensign. “It’s
High Admiral van Reutensberg on secure channel fifteen, sir.” The carefully
schooled voice told Tennyson that his nemesis was not in a good mood; hardly
news. He suppressed a scowl and refastened his collar. “Patch her through.”
“If
you say so, sir.” Taylor had an intense dislike for the High Admiral, a feeling
they both shared.
The
silver-haired woman glared, her eyes burning through the screen at him. “Is
this your doing, Tennyson?” she spat out.
Tennyson’s
lips thinned. “What are you talking about, van Reutensberg?”
She
leaned towards the screen, one hand gripping the edge of her desk, as if she
were trying to crush it. “Stannis escaped.”
“What?”
Tennyson reacted before he could control himself.
“Don’t
tell me you didn’t order it.”
Tennyson’s
fist clenched under his desk and his mind raced.
“Don’t
be a fool, van Reutensberg. Why would I do such a thing? The Empire needs him.”
“Someone
had to help him. He couldn’t escape without the transceiver.”
“Where’s
the psychostrategist?”
“Your
psychostrategist is missing.” The insinuation was clear.
He
stared at her angry image, drawing out the silence, making her wait.
Would
the Psychostrategist’s Guild be behind this? They were mercenary to a fault,
but the secrecy of their order raised many troubling questions. It was an
independent organization that was far too independent for his liking.
“Don’t
try to push your failure on me, Gwen. This is the second time you’ve let
Stannis fool you. Maybe we should have let someone else oversee the project.”
Static
crackled across the screen like a bolt of lightning. “You
were the one who argued for a reduced sentence for Stannis,” she
spat out.
“Now
he has sympathizers.
They must have helped him.”
She
must be talking about the Tellaran, Kali Mirren.
Anita said Stannis had developed personal attachments. It was surprising given
the scientist’s personality, and he had dismissed the relevance at the time.
Would
Anita—no. She would never compromise the security of the Empire regardless of
her personal feelings; else she would not be on the Fleet Council.
But
Gwen would have no qualms about making the insinuations to weaken his position
with the others. Anita’s vote was one of the few on the Council he could still
depend on. If she was pushed off, his position was tenuous at best.
“There
will be a full investigation,” he
threatened.
“There
had better be.”
“What
is the status of the jump gate? Is it complete? Did he sabotage it before he
left?”
Van
Reutensberg paused at the abrupt change in topic and he could see the wheels
turning.
“I
have people assessing the damage.”
There
was only one reason why she would be delaying the truth. “How did Stannis
escape a secure facility half a mile underground, surrounded by guards and the
best security system in the Empire?”
The
icy flash in her eyes gave the answer long before the words came out.
“He
used the jump gate.”
Tennyson
steepled his fingers and regarded her with cold calculation. “So he did it
after all. He built a working jump gate and we can finally reach the Andromedan
galaxy.”
“That
does not excuse his actions. I will hunt him down and he will pay for what he's
done.”
“I
have no doubts you will, but remember…” He leaned forward. “He built the jump
gate, something no one else has been able to do. We need him alive
and his mind functioning.”
~~~
A
battered old cargo vessel settled on the dirt with a flumph of dirty exhaust, a
loud thump, and a weary creak as the landing gear sagged under the weight.
Metal scratched, latches slid back, and the ship sucked in a rush of frosty air
as the hatch swung open. The gangplank extended,
levering
down and flakes of heat-resistant green coating drifted loose from the outer
hull.
Drel
Argus exited the cargo ship, his broad muscular shoulders filling the doorway
and a shabby rucksack slung over his right shoulder. Dark shades hid his eyes
as he surveyed the bustling spaceport. In black denim jeans, with a ribbed,
dark brown leather jacket over a tight khaki t-shirt and a rough, unshaven
face, he looked like a typical border mercenary. The only thing missing was the
gun belt strapped to his waist. Unfortunately, Orasis had pretensions of
civility, and weapons were not allowed except in designated areas.
It
wasn’t much of a spaceport. Only a single terminal and a baker’s dozen of
landing platforms forming a ragged line down an open field.
Glaring
light panels on both sides lit up the compound. A carpet of snow lay just
beyond the mesh fence ringing the perimeter. It glowed faint orange, indicating
an energy barrier.
He
rubbed his cheek, scratching two day-old stubble. Six security guards that he
could see, two exits, a single customs checkpoint, no automated defense system,
a few cameras in sensitive areas, and civilians milling around looking lost.
With a handful of picked men, he could raze
the
place. Argus shook his head at the cobweb of instincts and memories that
ensnared his mind. That life was far behind him now, and he was determined to
keep it that way, as long as he was left alone.
A
growing line snaked from one of the exits. Several public transports, their
hulls brightly announcing discounted rates, had just arrived. Good timing for
him. It was much easier to escape notice in a forest of people.
Lifting
a wide-brimmed hat, he combed his fingers through stiff sunburnt hair. It was
even less respectable after he was done. He scowled at the stranger staring
back from the reflective surface of a dormant information screen embedded into
a faux brick wall.
A
shadow played across his face, a passenger transport easing in for a landing,
this one with official markings. His stomach tightened as he watched a whoosh
of downward thrust as it settled on a raised high-security pad at the far end
of the compound. A reflective energy screen
snapped
into place, preventing the curious from seeing who had arrived.
He
stepped onto the gangplank. It was nothing to do with him. People interested in
him didn’t usually have VIP passes, only a gun, or a knife for his back.
Keeping his head down, he angled the hat lower to shade his face and headed for
the checkpoint. He felt naked without his sidearm, currently hidden inside a
secured case in his ruck, impervious to all scanning equipment. The screener
cost him a great deal, namely one dead bounty hunter, but the man wouldn’t need
it any more. He made a straight line for the customs station, easing behind an
elderly couple pushing a hover cart loaded with matching green and rust-colored
luggage. The cart stuttered every few meters, holding up the line.
The
silver-haired woman pointed a bent finger at the steering panel. “The brake is
the button on the right.”
Argus
felt like pushing the cart for them just to get the couple moving faster. The
woman’s voice had that nagging quality that grated on already raw nerves.
“I
know, Gladys,” said the husband, exasperated, and pushing every button he could
find.
“Could
you help us, please?” Gladys asked, as only elderly women could, with the
pleading, innocent demeanor of someone who expected all decent people to help
those in need. She was looking right at him.
His
dark brown eyes drilled into hers. Only a fool would look for help from someone
like him. Argus glanced to the guard at the customs gate.
The
old woman might be irritating, but she was the kind of distraction he could
use. He nodded, forcing a sliver of a smile to crack his face—it was a wonder
he remembered how. “Of course.”
Gladys
kept up a constant stream of chatter, asking him questions to which he grunted
noncommittally. The security guard at the gate glanced at them, lazily
scratched an itch, and barely looked at the information flashing across his
screen when they slotted in their ident markers. They passed through safely and
Argus sighed with relief when Gladys, her husband and their matching luggage
disappeared inside a yellow bubble taxi.
Outside
the spaceport, stepping off the road, Argus looked up at the overcast sky and
felt…nothing.
Another
day on another dreary planet. How many days did he have left before they caught
up with him? He moved off quickly before someone else gave him the answer.
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