by Maia Tanith
“And what if the Prince is no better than his uncle? What then? Shall we fight and die to see another madman, drunk with his own power, on the throne?”
A loud hiss follows these words, and a young girl stands up. “How dare you say that?” she says, her voice shaking with rage. There is something odd about her face. It takes me a moment to realize that she is missing an ear. “He is the one who set Jaaki and me free when the Emperor had us tied in the hall. The Emperor tried to kill father and us, too, and he,” she points to Khan, “set us free. I did not know he was the Prince then, but I know now. And I will follow him and fight for him until the day I die. He has already earned my loyalty.”
Her words carry the day. There is no further discussion and no more argument. All the talk turns to how soon we can be ready to leave.
Delia takes off with Azr to get the supplies coordinated. Weapons, mostly. Azr, it seems, is a successful gunrunner for the rebellion. Thanks to him, we will be facing the Emperor’s guards with decent weaponry, rather than going up against the equivalent of a crocodile with a toothpick.
Khan, Taark and Hathik, as three of those who have been most recently in the city and experienced fighters, take the lead on battle strategy. The idea is to hit the major players hard and fast. Separate small groups will storm the residences of a dozen of the Emperor’s key supporters and take them into custody to prevent them from coming to the Emperor’s aid. Meanwhile the largest group will storm the palace, neutralize the guards, and capture the Emperor himself.
Prince Khan will be declared Emperor and will announce to the planet that, now that he is of age, his uncle has abdicated in his favor.
“With any luck, we will pull off a bloodless coup,” Hannah remarks to the table.
“We?” her mate, Taark, says, his eyebrows raised almost to his hairline. “No, you’re staying behind here, where you will be safe.”
Hanna makes a rude noise. “Don’t be ridiculous. Do I have to remind you that I killed a Galgog?”
Taark gives a humph and is silent.
I don’t know what a Galgog is, but Khan looks impressed.
“It’s a huge, nasty lizardy thing with spikes and teeth,” Hannah whispers in my ear. “And I had help, so it’s no big deal. It sounds good though.”
It certainly does sound good. So good that Hannah is eagerly welcomed into the group that is storming the palace.
Khan takes hold of my hand under the table. “Is there anything I can say that will convince you to stay behind?”
I think hard for a moment. “No.”
“I didn’t think so. In that case, you had better come along with me to find my uncle. I don’t trust anyone else to have your back.”
Chapter Seven
Khan
In short order, we have rounded up all the able-bodies Kargans in the settlement. Hathik spends the time on the comcast, sending out instructions to all the other rebel cells he knows of, and asking them to pass the message on to all the sympathizers in the palace. While we do not want to lose the element of surprise, nor do we want any unnecessary bloodshed. A warning to sympathizers will be enough. That will stop them from fighting back out of pure instinct the moment they realize the palace is under attack. With any luck, of number of them will join us outright.
There are sufficient adults left behind to care for the kits. One male Kargan has a broken ankle and cannot walk without crutches. Three females are too heavily pregnant to move quickly and would be a liability to the group. A very elderly Kargan, half-blind and barely able to walk, insists on coming with us to the palace. “I can still hold a detonator,” he proclaims. “And I will not miss this for the world. I will sit and guard the vehicles while you young’uns do the fighting.”
After a short, hurried discussion, Hathik and I agree.
Hathik’s daughter, the one without the ear, demands to come, too.
I cannot agree to putting her in danger again. She is too young. Instead, her father gives her a weapon and pronounces her in charge of the junior division of the rebel forces. If the settlement is attacked while they are away taking the city, then she will lead the other kits to safety in the tunnels.
She accepts her commission gravely and goes to reconnoiter the possible paths of escape.
Hathik watches her go with pride. “She is a fighter, that one. Just like her mother.”
“She is truly strong. A survivor.”
When we reach the city in the early hours of the morning, it is surrounded by a haze of smoke.
We circle above the city, taking stock. The arena is a smoldering ruin. I am not sorry to see the last of that place. The Games are a stain on our planet.
Flames lick at the edges of the neighboring space port. There will be no takeoff or landing there until the fire is out.
I am equally glad of the fire there. No help will come to the Emperor from off planet. Not with nowhere for their ships to land. Of course, that means no help will come for us, either, but we are not expecting any.
Three firefighting behemoths are ranged around the perimeter. Their robotic arms, controlled by operators in the command center far away from danger, point streams of water at the flames and stomp out smaller breakaway fires with their large, flat feet. They are keeping the fire at bay but do not yet have it under control.
A few hot spots across the city are burning, sending plumes of dark acrid-smelling smoke into the air.
The rest of the city is relatively unscathed.
Apart from the palace, that is.
It seems that the ahlakaraptor had the good sense to head for the large fountain in the gardens as the nearest water source. Not that it helped her in the end. Her huge body lies in the garden, scorched and motionless, and all around it, one wing of the palace is on fire.
A half-dozen firefighting behemoths are here, trying in vain to save the palace rather than fight the fire threatening the space port.
I can only shake my head in dismay. Such selfishness is typical of my uncle. He would rather save his personal possessions in the palace than the space port, on which the prosperity of the entire planet depends.
Hathik comcasts down to his people on the ground. “Where can we land?”
“On the South Lawn,” a crackly voice comes in. “We’ll be waiting for you.”
The South Lawn juts up against the other wing of the palace—the wing that is not on fire. We head down there. The pilot expertly maneuvers the craft until it hovers inches above the ground. I jump out first and then give my had to Faye, who is on my heels. In mere seconds, the belly of the craft is empty, and the pilot takes off again. As we scurry to the shelter of the walls, a second hovercraft comes in, and then a third.
My heart is pounding, and my breathing shallow. I take several deep breaths to calm myself. All of my senses are on high alert. I can smell the sweat on Faye’s body next to mine and hear the pounding of her heart.
A couple of shots ring out, and the third hovercraft is hit as it takes off again. It spins and whirs crazily for a moment. I hold my breath, expecting it to plummet from the sky and land in a fiery heap, but to my surprise, it rights itself and speeds off into the distance.
The Emperor, and those of his guards who are loyal to him, must have realized by now that something is wrong. I guess three unscheduled hovercrafts landing and then taking off again in your private garden is a bit of a giveaway.
We are joined by the other fighters from the other hovercraft moments later, as well as a group of the Emperor’s personal guards. Rodan is among them. I greet him with a heartfelt embrace. When I left the palace, I had thought I may never see him again. I am more relieved than I can say to see that he is still alive. And unharmed, too, by the looks of it.
“On the roof,” I order the first group. “Rodan, lead them there. You know where to go. My uncle has a hovercraft on standby there. He’ll try to get out that way if he can.”
“The gardens,” I instruct a second group. “Fan out and keep watch. Stop anyone from
leaving. Stun them if you must. Don’t kill them unless you have to. I want no more killing than is absolutely necessary.”
I take the largest group with me inside the building. “I’ll take the lead,” I tell Hathik. “I know the place the best. And I know him best, too. I can find where he may be hiding.”
We make our way through the corridors as quietly as we can. Nothing can mask the scuffling of our feet on the floor and the brush of our sleeves against the walls.
We find him in the Great Hall, surrounded by his guards. Well, surrounded by some of his guards. The ones he has left. The violent. The brutal. The ones whom he has favored the most, whose families have done well for themselves by sucking up to him.
There is not a Kargan I would trust among them.
My uncle sits on his throne, the guards surrounding him in a protective phalanx. “So, nephew,” he booms. “You are back again. You didn’t like the accommodations that the rebels provided for you? Were they not nice enough for your tender tastes?”
His weakness has always been that he does not understand my strength. I know that better now, and I do not let him bait me. “It is time for you to step down, uncle. It’s over. There is no need to make this more difficult than it is. Leave quietly and peacefully and retire to your country estates, and that can be the end of it for both of us.” I have to make the offer, though I know his pride, He will not take it. He would rather die than walk away from the power he wields as Emperor.
He stands. “Don’t presume to tell me what to do, boy,” he snarls. “Guards. Dispose of this scum. I do not want a single one of them left alive.” He sneers directly at me. “And that includes my pathetic excuse of a nephew. My sister should have drowned you at birth. I’m glad she’s dead now, and that she cannot see what a disgrace you are to the family name.”
Without taking his eyes off me, he takes a huge leap and disappears out of the far door. The guards put their hands to their weapons, but they are disoriented from the sudden disappearance of the Emperor they are guarding and slow from lack of practice and training.
Too slow. No match for Hathik and his band of guerillas who are used to fighting for their lives. And, thanks to Azr and Delia, they have just as good weaponry as the Emperor’s guards, if not better.
Within seconds, a dozen of the Emperor’s old guard are lying on the floor and the air is filled with the screaming of the wounded. The others turn tail and flee after the Emperor, shooting wildly behind them as they run.
“After them,” Hathik orders. “Don’t let them get away.”
The guards have scattered. Some down one corridor and some down another. I scan the area quickly. “Head up,” I yell. “He’ll be making for the hovercraft on the roof to take him to his Mobile Command Centre over at the airfield. If he gets there, he’ll barricade himself in and call for reinforcements off-planet, if he hasn’t already done so. He’ll be able to wage war on us remotely while he stays safe. Untouchable.”
With a few hand gestures, Hathik send a couple of smaller parties out through the corridors to round up the fleeing guards. The others jump onto the travellator and head up to the roof.
Faye and I share a glance. “I don’t trust technology,” she mutters, and we bypass the travellator in favor of the emergency stairs.
Together we dash up the stairs, our legs pumping and our hearts pounding. I can’t let him get away. I just can’t.
If we capture him now, our coup will be successful.
If not, we risk plunging our entire planet into a civil war. None of us wants that.
Except of course, my uncle. He will do anything to hold onto the vestiges of his power.
We are nearly at the top when an explosion rings out.
We sprint the last few steps. I am out of breath and beside me, Faye is panting hard, her head hanging between her knees. There is no longer a hovercraft on the roof. In its place is a twisted wreck of smoking metal.
Azr’s voice comes through my earpiece. “Damn. Got the hovercraft but missed the Emperor. I didn’t want to wait until he took off. Those things are tricky to shoot down once they’re in the air.”
Then out of the smoking ruins strides my uncle. I stare at him, frozen for a moment, my weapon at the ready. Azr may have missed him, but the explosion hasn’t. One side of his face is badly burned, the hair singed off his head, and his chest is speckled with blood from dozens of cuts.
He is my uncle, my mother’s brother, my blood. My finger is on the trigger, but I cannot shoot him in cold blood.
He sneers at me and then is gone, loping away across the other side of the roof and down.
Faye raises her head in time to see him disappear off the edge of the roof. She grabs at her weapon and fires at him, but too late.
“I couldn’t.” I admit, to the question in her eyes. “He is my blood.”
To my surprise, Faye nods. “That makes you a better Kargan than he is,” she says simply.
I am grateful for her understanding. For her lack of anger.
I am angry enough at myself for my failure.
Faye holsters her weapon again and we race after him. “You know him best. Where will he go next?”
“If he can’t escape by air, he’ll go underground. There’s a hyperloop. It serves as an escape path to the airfield on the far side of the city where the Mobile Command Center is.”
The explosion has stopped the travellator in its tracks, trapping the others mid-floor. “Go down,” I order those stuck in the travellator, as Faye and I scramble down the wrecked stairway on the outside of the building where my uncle had gone. It shudders and creaks alarmingly under our weight, but it holds. “Find the hyperloop.”
I can see my uncle below us. Faye launches another round at him, but misses. Her shot hits the building and part of the stairway below us comes away from the wall and crashes to the ground.
Faye comes to a stop. “Fuck. Fuck fuck fuck.”
Below us, the Emperor has reached the ground. He throws us one last triumphant smile, his feral eyes glinting crazily in his burnt shell of a face, before loping off.
He must have lost all his weapons when the hovercraft caught fire, or we would be sitting ducks here, pinned against the wall with nowhere to go.
I clamber down as far as the staircase allows. “We don’t have time to go back up again. We’ll have to climb. Or jump.”
Faye shakes her head. “It’s too far to jump.”
The ground is a long way away, but I am not giving up now. “In that case, we have to climb.”
There are handholds on the wall. A window with a ledge. A couple of bolts sticking out from where the staircase has sheared away.
Faye doesn’t hesitate. She scrambles down, her lithe body and nimble fingers making easy work of the handholds. I wait for her. If I were to fall on top of her, I would take her out as well.
In moments, she is on the ground.
I can do this. I must do this.
I lower myself down to the bottom rung of the stair and hang there as my feet scramble wildly for a toehold.
“To your left,” Faye calls.
My toe finds it. The top of a window ledge. I take my weight on my foot, let go of the stairway with one hand and grab onto a bolt a few feet below.
Handhold by foothold, I inch down the wall, Faye calling out directions from below.
I jump the last few feet, landing with a crash that knocks the wind out of me.
Faye extends a hand and helps me back onto my feet. “Remind me never to take you rock climbing,” she says with a grin.
I stagger to my feet and dust myself off. Nothing is broken. “Remind me never to go if you ever ask me. Which way did he go?”
She takes off running and motions for me to follow. “This way.”
The underground passage leading to the hyperloop is cold and dank. Us Kargans don’t like being underground. We prefer the wide-open spaces and the light.
It’s dusty, too. Dusty enough for us to make out my uncle’s foots
teps in front of us. He’s bleeding, too. I can smell the metallic scent of his blood drops scattered along the way.
I’m thankful for the light globes now. One of them lights our way, saving us from having to grope blindly through the tunnels. Even better, in the distance I can see the faint glow of another.
My uncle’s.
In these echoing passages, sound is amplified and comes at you in strange directions. We hear our own footsteps and his echoing around us from every side. The light tells me where he is better than anything else could.
I can be confident that he is not waiting around a corner to ambush us, so we press on.
The others in our group are behind us in the tunnels now. I can see their light globe flicking in the distance and Hathik confirms it with a voice in my earpiece.
We don’t wait for them. There is no time to lose.
A hissing and a rumble.
I didn’t think I could run any faster, but at the sound of that noise, I pick up the pace.
We burst into the hyperloop tunnel at high speed, just in time to see a carriage disappearing into the gloom at the far end.
The doors to the next are locked. I force my way into it with one swipe of my claws, only to look down at the control panel in frustration. Shit. How do I operate it?
Hathik bursts into the tunnel behind me, the rest of our company close on his heels. He swings into the car with us, followed by as many others as can squeeze in.
I push some buttons at random. The lights switch off and then on again, but nothing else happens. Then one of the Emperor’s ex-guards pushes his way to the front. “I’ll drive.”
I scramble out of his way. He stands confidently at the controls and in moments, we take off with a jerk and hurtle our way into the darkness.
In mere minutes, we blast out into the dawn of the airfield.
This is where the Emperor keeps his Mobile Command Centre, a huge hoverplane, equipped, staffed and ready to go at all times.