by Luke Norris
“I have a hundred and eighty drivers, but only five landing craft, each with fourteen driver pods. We will have to bring them down in several runs from the mothership. But if Medom lends me some pilots, then I could manage it three or four runs.”
“Blazing hydrons,” Li laughed. “This place really will be hotter than a blue giant. Just imagine the reaction of the other E.T.s when they deploy to find out that their drivers have no control over the inhabitants. And, they’ll have a hundred and eighty enemy drivers already commanding the masses here. It’s unheard of. It’s brilliant!”
The prospect did excite him. He’d never heard of such a move happening on planet runs. “It sounds like it could work,” Seth said, quickly running unknown factors through the equation. “As long as the U.W.F. don’t show up early.” He said the last comment quietly to himself, but he could see Li’s expression become surly. He quickly changed tack, “I’ll coordinate with Medom, we need to move quickly if you really think there are other E.T.s in the system.”
“They’re here,” Li insisted. “We can’t penetrate their cloaking to be sure, but we were expecting them sooner or later, and the ship’s computer has calculated the anomalies to be consistent with a cloaked object.”
“I’ll get it done,” Seth began walking toward the landing craft.
“Seth.” Li called after him, “How did our pet driver do? Did Arif survive the procedure?”
“He did,” no thanks to her, “and actually showed remarkable resilience. I was even able to give him a few extras. He’ll make a formidable driver.” He couldn’t tell Li exactly what he’d done, or she would have Arif dissolved.
“Hmm,” she grunted satisfied. “Alright, the next time we see each other I expect to have an army of mindless first-stagers, led by the best drivers in the galaxy.”
Seth chuckled as he walked away, she was paying him a compliment in her ‘Li’ way. She would never compliment him outright, but he’d come to learn her idiosyncrasies and their meanings.
Seth entered into the control room to find Medom staring at a hologram of a rat, it then changed into a lizard, then a bird.
“Studying the local fauna?” Seth said derisively. “Thought you were getting ready for blanketing.”
“Delivery system,” Medom replied, without turning to look at Seth. “If I have an alien looking drone walk in there, or fly in there, they could close the water plant down. This would delay the contamination. Li was specific that she did not want any delays.”
“I’m surprised you don’t just walk in there and make it happen.”
“Thank you for your wisdom on drugging first-stage populations, Seth. You are such an expert on the matter. Now would you like to hear my advice on how to program the drivers?”
“Point taken,” Seth waved her down. “But it’s funny you say that.” He looked at the agitated woman before continuing smugly. “Did Li mention anything about why you were to wait for me before proceeding?”
“Hmm,” Medom grunted reluctantly, not looking at him.
Seth would take that as a yes. Li had clearly told her she had to listen to him, yes he could see it in her posture, the broken pride. The reluctant subservience. Perfect. Medom had never treated Seth with a suitable amount of reverence for his work. In fact, none of the crew did. If they knew how important his work on the subject was, they would all treat him with the veneration he deserved.
“You are going to change the recipe slightly this time,” Seth said, deliberately phrasing it as an order. “I have a new chemical for your cocktail. You’ll have to do the scaling calculations, I’m not sure…”
“Of course I’ll have to do the scaling,” she snapped, shaking her head. “At the rate, you go through the driver test subjects you’d probably kill half the population if you tried, and we’d have no serfs.”
“The serfs would be nothing without my drivers commanding them,” Seth shot back. “We have the best drivers of any crew thanks to my methods.”
She was smiling now. She’d gotten to him, it’s what she was trying to do. Damn her.
“Okay tell me what you’ve developed,” Medom said, the tension dispelled now she’d gotten the reaction from him that she wanted. “Li tells me you’ve created something that will make the driver connection stronger. Is this true?”
“Well, yes,” Seth replied excitedly. “There are some caveats. Our drivers have to be the first they see after contamination. Just like a baby chick believing the first thing they see to be their mother. It won’t always be useful, it will have to assessed on a case by case basis. But we have the perfect test ground here because no competing crews are on the ground yet.”
“Hell, this might be the only time,” Medom said looking thoughtful. “Have you ever been on a planet-run this quiet, ever?”
“No, I haven’t.” Seth conceded. “It might be a one-off. But despite that, having this a test case will help further my research. Perhaps develop the agent to a point where it is bound purely to our drivers. But right now we have a short window. I will need to coordinate the driver deployment very closely with the blanketing.”
Seth whispered a couple of words to the ship’s computer, and the hologram of the rodent disappeared, and a complex molecule structure replaced it. Medom learned in studying the structure, consternation etched her brow. She made small grunts and noises as she inspected Seth’s work. He stood back with a satisfied grin. He knew his work was something extraordinary. He could see it now in Medoms reaction, she was struggling with some things but didn’t have the humility to ask him. This was the future of blanketing, and she knew it.
26
KIDNAPPED
Oliver scanned the dark brick boat sheds on the opposite bank of the Tashka. “Which building did you say?” he asked lowering the binoculars and looking at the peculiar man beside him. It was seventeen degrees, why was he sweating?
“It’s the building with the wide boat ramp,” Lenat said wiping his brow, “that’s where Krin saw the disappearances.”
Oliver frowned peering through the binoculars again. Those words troubled him, the familiarity. So far they’d seen nothing though, and as Shael continuously reminded him, the source was dubious. He peered out the corner of his eye at Lenat. He was shuffling through a pile of messy papers talking to himself. Oliver was hardly paying attention to the opposite bank now, the odd man’s behavior was becoming more frantic and obsessed. He appeared to have found the paper he was looking for.
“There were four sightings made from this site,” Lenat read off his report, “two were from eyewitnesses that Krin overheard, and two from Krin himself. I can vouch for the veracity of Krin’s accounts,” he added protectively. “Krin claimed that on both occasions people had disappeared behind what he described as shimmering air.”
Well, so far Oliver had seen some children playing a ball game and the constant stream of barges and boats that used the Tashka as a water highway. Shael had probably fallen asleep on their small rental skiff moored on the pier side below them.
They had both hardly slept recently. The last few nights had been a whirlwind of unchecked passion, with moments of tender discovery. The thought of them alone again began to excite him. He blinked to clear his vision and focus.
“Can I ask you something?” Lenat said quietly, staring at Oliver. “Why do you believe us? Nobody has responded to us before.”
Oliver had no compunction about telling the truth. Nobody believed it anyway, apart from people in his inner circle. Many in the space facility knew there was something about Oliver that was different, but never in their wildest dreams imagined that he was the Oliver of old
“I’ve faced extraterrestrials before,” Oliver replied scrutinizing the boatshed. “They are terrible indeed. I need to make sure that’s not what we are dealing with here. It’s just precautionary,” he added almost too quietly for Lenat to hear.
“How long have they been here?” Lenat asked.
Oliver could feel man’s intense stare.
“The ones that I encountered arrived here more than five hundred years ago.” He looked at Lenat out of the corner of his eye and smiled. That should keep him busy for a while, he thought.
Indeed, Lenat was talking to himself quietly, counting on his hand, and still sweating profusely.
“And you were there,” Lenat pushed further, “five hundred years ago when they first arrived?”
“Aye, I was here, and I waged war with them.” He replied still examining the opposite bank.
Oliver glanced at Lenat and was surprised to see there were actually tears in the man’s eyes.
“I knew it,” Lenat whispered wiping his eyes. “All this time, there had to be something. I knew you were real. Well, not you per se, but something… like you. I can’t explain it.” He shook himself and nodded seriously. “Yes, it makes sense that you would be interested in their reemergence if you are mortal enemies.” He looked intensely into Oliver’s eyes as if he understood the weight of the burden Oliver had to carry all this time.
Oliver lowered his binoculars a moment, chuckling in disbelief. This man was fascinating, he had already accepted the impossibility that Oliver could have been around this long, had gone one step even further, and was already considering the psychological effects that must have caused.
Lenat eyes slowly widened as the epiphany sunk in. “King Oliver,” he whispered in religious awe.
He was about to ask another question, but in that instant, something caught Oliver’s eye. A movement. He held up his hand to silence Lenat. Had that man been there a moment ago? Even from across the river he could make out the man’s robes, they were Sharian. He was walking from the boat ramp to one of the large sheds and disappeared into the shadow of the door.
The late afternoon sun was casting long shadows, making it hard to be sure where the man had emerged from, probably the other warehouse.
This reconnaissance mission brought back memories of trekking through the highlands with Ponsy, and the militia they had mobilized to hinder the lowland raiding parties. They’d been ruthlessly pressing young highland boys and men into service of their army. The lowlanders didn’t realize they were doing it at the behest of depraved second-stagers.
Oliver took a deep slow breath. It was probably nothing. He was fairly certain no drivers were operating on Arakan. Their patent behavior would have set off his sixth sense instantly—he was, after a fashion, a driver himself. No there weren’t drivers here. Yet… he felt on edge.
Three figures now emerged from the boat shed. One was a woman. She had short cropped hair, but her slender form and unmistakable feminine movements set her apart from the two men. Oliver watched them with mild interest as they talked amongst themselves gesticulating animatedly.
Suddenly, the woman and man beside her winked out of existence. Oliver stiffened. The small hairs on his neck stood up, sensing danger. What had just happened? Had he simply lost focus for a second? A third man remained visible.
Oliver shook his head to clear it, then adjusted the binoculars to zoom in slightly. The man was still talking, but to empty space in front of him. Then Oliver saw it, the space he was looking at was not congruent with the surroundings, the bricks didn’t line up. The depth perspectives were somehow wrong. Now that he knew what to look for it seemed to be so obviously some kind of screen. Almost as if the large object was transparent, or projecting the background in such high resolution that it was impossible to tell the difference.
Oliver’s heart was racing. The reality that he might once again thrust into the nightmare he’d known half a millennia ago started to crowd his sensibilities. Except this would be infinitely worse. These were not marooned desperate pirates like the ones that he and Ponsy had faced down, these were fully equipped second-stagers. He felt ice cold and flush at the same time. He forced himself to watch through the binoculars. Lenat was saying something, but his voice was background noise.
The remaining man continued gesticulating and talking to what looked like thin air. Eventually, he turned away, and Oliver saw the shimmering mirage-like air rise into the sky and vanish.
It was a ship! A cloaked ship. There could be no doubt in Oliver’s mind. He hunched over, putting his hands on his knees. He tasted the bile in the back of his throat. How could such injustice go unchecked in the universe? It was a feeling of utter helplessness in the face of such an enemy. The despair was almost powerful enough to squash the driver instincts, instincts that were already calculating and strategizing. But all calculations, all scenarios against such a foe led to one outcome, one finale. Oliver went down to one knee. He was fated to have these marauders follow him across the galaxy.
The thought brought him back to the slave galley he’d been woken in, and his friends. Lego had never given up, even after they’d taken everything from him, even his body. He’d fought them till the bitter end. Oliver still had his body. There was nobody else, just Oliver. He was the only protection these people had. Although he did have some attributes and abilities that set him apart from inhabitants, they were nothing in the face of these adversaries. He would have as much chance as a child walking into a pride of hungry lions. Hopeless? Yes. But he would fight. For Shael and these people, for Lego, and for Earth.
Lenat’s voice came back into focus. “Did you see extraterrestrials?” he repeated.
Oliver looked at the man. Lenat looked back solemnly, waiting for Oliver. Trust was in those eyes, purpose, just like the highland boys who had followed him blindly all those eons ago.
Right now, Oliver hated that he inspired that in men. Lenat’s optimism, hope, and determination were almost palpable and had Oliver not known the utter hopelessness of their plight, it would have been contagious. It was just Lenat’s ignorance and naivety that gave him the false sense of hope. Oliver wanted to shake him, rip away the eagerness, the innocence, that ridiculous toy sword. He suddenly wanted to beat the truth into Lenat’s head that they were all going to die, have to watch friends turn on friends, and see everything they’d known descend into chaos and war.
All of a sudden, Oliver found himself enraged at Lenat. But it wasn’t really Lenat he was mad at, it was himself. Lenat had something that Oliver didn’t have, and wished desperately to possess. At least then he could march to his death with a sense of blissful ignorance. But then Lego had known the hopelessness of their plight. He had not been ignorant like Lenat.
On the contrary, he had experienced the utter inhumanity to a most extreme degree and been completely emasculated. Yet, he had fought with fervency and share force of will despite his condition. Oliver felt ashamed, who was he to try and take away someone’s hope?
He turned away from Lenat, worried that he would suspect Oliver’s shameful thoughts. “They are called second-stagers.” Oliver told him, “they look like you and me, but these ones are different.”
At that moment, Lenat’s lanky blonde companion came up the concrete stairs that led down to the small boat. In his own way, Krin was just as awkward as Lenat. Oliver wasn’t entirely convinced he had mastered full dexterity of gangly limbs. Krin didn’t look Oliver in the eye, but the question was clearly directed at him. “Did you find the extraterrestrials?”
“They’re called second-stagers,” Lenat corrected him knowingly.
“He believes us?” Krin asked Lenat, clearly surprised.
Lenat shuffled quickly over to Krin whispering something in his ear. Krin’s eyes became as wide a saucers. He promptly went down on one knee and bowed his head. “I am at your service my king.”
Oh, brother, Oliver thought, now I’m going to have bill and ben the flowerpot men following me around. “Don’t be silly! Get up,” he commanded. “Nobody did that to me back then, so don’t you two start! Also, if you want to be technically correct, I was never a king. The passage of time has distorted things slightly.”
Krin pulled himself up solemnly, clearly still in total shock and awe of Oliver. They both now stood watching Oliver expectantly. That same blind faith that he’d see
n in the eyes of the Highlanders. But he’d led those men to victory—there had actually been a chance of winning. Now, they watched him again, waiting to hear his plan. But did he have a plan?
“One of the second-stagers is still on the opposite bank right now,” Oliver said, scanning quickly back across the boat sheds, “I believe he is alone.” We need to find out exactly what we are up against. Oliver thought, and he can tell us. “We have the element of surprise. Come! There’s not a second to spare.”
Oliver made his way down the concrete steps, treading carefully on the slimy red Tashka algae that covered the steps near the waterline. “Shael!” he called, climbing over the boat’s low gunwales, into the large skiff. “We’re crossing the river right now.” The last time he’d been on a boat, it had been on a barge to infiltrate the Zewka compound.
Shael looked disturbed at Oliver’s urgency but didn’t ask questions. She moved quickly to the front of the boat and unhitched the mooring rope. The gunwales rocked dangerously close to the water as Lenat clambered aboard. He seemed not to notice, his confidence bolstered around Oliver. The boat was unsinkable. Oliver undid the rope at the rear and started the motor. The boat was already underpowered, and it sat deep in the water as the motor coughed and sputtered, moving them sluggishly out into the main flow.
“Oliver?” Shael asked in consternation. “What did you see?”
“They’re here, Shael,” Oliver confirmed, adjusting the tiller to counter the main current. “They’ve finally come.”
She was silent and left Oliver to brood. She’d heard the stories. Oliver had made it clear to her what these monsters were capable of.
The trip didn’t take long, but it seemed to last an eternity. Lenat and Krin sat in the bowels of the skiff on some cluttered wharf tackle, watching him almost the entire way.
“Wait here,” Oliver told them. “Lenat, untangle those ropes and have them ready. We’ll be needing them in a couple of minutes.” He pointed to a tangle of ropes lying on the exposed ribs of the boat’s hull.