“Great, sir. It should be running on the early platform they created to control function.” The TechRate was enthusiastic. “It required a human mind to make choices and give instructions, so you might try that approach. It wasn’t completely sentient as our AI networks are.”
“Thank you, I will.” Harry concentrated and the data stream slowed, then shunted, then steadied as he gave several search commands. Minutes later he had what he was looking for.
“Now, Mr. Dorfling, how quickly can you create audio functionality?”
“There won’t be time, Commander,” said Boris as he joined them again. He looked frightened. “Captain and his goons are on their way. The others are concerned, and one of them has reported us to the Council.” He glanced around. “I’m afraid we’re trapped.”
Chapter 18
On the Run
_________________________
“I’ve programmed the coms unit, sir, and it’s secured. They won’t find it unless someone tells them where to look.”
“Good, well done, Warrant.” Harry looked around. “There’s no point in resisting. I propose we surrender and try to avoid giving them any reason to look for the coms or the computer.”
“I’d like to do a fix on those weapons, sir, and make them useless.” The Warrant Officer indicated the air rifles they’d taken from the Enforcers. “I reckon they won’t have anyone who can fix them either.”
“Do so, but be quick. We haven’t long.” Harry considered a moment than asked, “Do they have additional uniforms they can change into?”
Leo shook his head. “No, each individual is issued one uniform.”
“Good, that works in our favour. Doctor, have you some powder that will cause a rash?”
The doctor looked thoughtful. “No, but I do have something that will make them feel pretty sick after a while.”
“Good, give it to me please.” Taking the proffered vial, he carefully unscrewed the cap. “Mr. Dorfling, hold that suit open for me.”
Ten minutes later the Enforcers stormed into the workshop angry that the Mechanist had disabled the lift. “Freeze, mutineers!” their leader bellowed through his mask.
He seemed uncertain when it became obvious that his target group were seated facing the door with their hands on their knees flanked by Medico and the Mechanist on one side with Harry, Mike and Jack on the other.
“Don’t move,” the leader shouted at them.
“We have no intention of doing so,” Harry replied calmly.
“Shut yer mouth, spy! Shoulda fed ya to the sand dragons when they found yez.” He signalled his men. “Get chains on ’em an’ get ’em down ter Executive.”
He noted the pile of weapons and armoured clothing. “Where are t’others? If ye’ve killed ’em, ye’ll swing fer it.”
“They’re sleeping—” Medico couldn’t get another word out when he was hit from behind with such force that it knocked him from his chair.
“That is uncalled for,” Harry snapped, and received a blow for his pains. He tried to dodge, but that unleashed a rain of blows that knocked him to the ground, and the assault continued in a storm of kicks. Jack blocked the blow aimed at him and grabbed hold of his attacker. Above the noise, the man’s screech of agony as Jack broke his arm brought a momentary pause in the mayhem, but seconds later Jack was overwhelmed as several men attacked him. Even so he caused at least one man to collapse in agony before he was subdued.
When they were again secured in chains, with Boris and Leo in shackles now too, the five were dragged to the lift and dumped into it for the descent. At the bottom there was no respite as the Enforcers administered further punishment while the Captain and his Council watched.
When he’d had his fill of retribution, the Captain spoke. “I think that is sufficient, Enforcer One. You can get them off the floor now.” He waited while the Enforcers dragged them to their feet. “I take sedition very seriously, Medico, and I’ve been far too tolerant of your insolence.” He turned to Leo. “Mechanist, you’ll have plenty of opportunity to keep the mining machines running while you consider your mistake in befriending these spies.” He moved closer to Harry. “As for you, Commander, I saw through you right from the start. That helmet was just a ruse. Commander of a starship, my ass! You’re nothing but pathetic Enviros.” He snapped his fingers at the lead Enforcer. “Take them to the mining cells.”
The cell into which they were thrown was bare. Boris eased himself into a sitting position, wincing with pain. “I’m sorry, Commander. I should have expected betrayal.”
Harry winced as he seated himself. Every part of his body hurt; his ribs were bruised, one eye was swollen and his lip was bleeding. “No, I should have counselled resistance. At least then we would have the satisfaction of having taken some of them with us into the next life.” He looked at Jack and was concerned about his wounds. To Boris he said, “Would you be so kind as to examine my Warrant Officer? I fear he took the brunt of their brutality.”
“I’ll be alright, sir,” Jack managed through gritted teeth. “I’ve had worse.”
“Perhaps, but not after wandering in a desert and suffering malnutrition.” Boris shuffled to where he could examine Jack.
Mike Dorfling groaned as he found a seat. “Bastards. When our blokes get here, I’m going to settle a score or two, sir.”
Harry grinned, but as the Commanding Officer, he couldn’t openly concur. “I don’t think I heard that, Mike, but I’d certainly support your having a very good talk to one or two—privately, of course.”
The TechRate grinned. “Naturally, sir, a real man-to-man talk, one at a time.”
Leonard watched, his concern obvious. “How can you joke? You don’t know what these men are like. They’ll kill us for any reason, and even if they don’t, they’ll find any excuse to punish you.”
Harry looked at him. “I think we know their type. As Mr. Dorfling has said, our people will arrive, soon I hope, and when they do, we will have our reckoning. Of that you may be very sure.” He paused. “Doctor, what sort of symptoms will the men suffer from whatever it was you sprinkled into their uniforms?”
The doctor paused, dabbing a trickle of blood from his nose. “They’ll feel feverish, their skin will itch, and some might experience nausea and double vision.” He peered at Harry. “Why?”
“When our guards return, as I’m sure they will, just follow my lead. Mr. Proctor, Mr. Dorfling, I hope to make our hosts think we are carrying the plague that seems to have killed the key officers, scientists and administrators of the original colonists. I want to make them frightened of having contact with us.” The full plan formed in his mind. “I want you, Mr. Dorfling, to complain that you’re suffering a relapse of a fictitious plague from somewhere. Can you do that? You could remind me that you haven’t been able to take the medication for it since we got here. You may have to improvise to take advantage of an opening into which the idea can be injected.”
The two men grinned at him, a rather ghoulish sight amidst their bruised and bloodied faces.
“You bet I can, sir,” said Mike.
“Good, but don’t overdo it. Make it seem as if you’re trying to protect them from being infected.”
“Gotcha, sir.” Dorfling’s grin showed his appreciation of Harry’s plan. “Trust me, sir, I was in the drama club at the Fleet Recruit Training base and on all the major ships I’ve served in. I’ll make it realistic.”
The doctor interjected. “I think I understand your plan, Commander. If you’ll let me, I’ll play a hand in it as well—I am, after all, the only person among them who is supposed to have medical knowledge.”
Harry nodded. “Good. As you probably know, the original colonists arrived here seriously irradiated, thanks to a fault in their drive system and shielding. They might have survived had it not made them vulnerable to a rather simple disease. For some reason only the very young and those in their early teens survived.”
The doct
or stared. “Where did you read that?”
“It is all recorded in the computer you have in the Observatory. Apparently the plague prevented the complete transfer of the equipment to the planet surface before the ship became unmanageable. According to the record I found, it had to be abandoned and destroyed, which is how your ancestors were marooned here.”
Harry heard something and stopped to listen. He held up a hand. “Get ready to play your parts. Someone’s coming.”
One of the guards appeared at the bars, his expression full of bravado. “Medico, you’re coming with me. Some of my boys need medical treatment. He pushed a key into the lock. “The rest of you scum stand back.”
“I don’t think that would be wise,” said Boris, and remained seated as far from the door as possible. He pointed to Mike Dorfling. “I’ve just learned this man is carrying the plague—probably the very one that killed our ancestors.”
Mike groaned in pain and doubled over. Through clenched teeth he gasped, “It’s true. I’ve not had my medicine since we got here, and it’s starting again.”
The guard looked uncertain as he backed away from the door. “What are you on about? What plague?”
“My vision is blurred … sometimes I see things that aren’t there, and my skin itches … I sweat and feel hot and cold, and my stomach…” He made gagging sounds. “Sorry. It’ll ease off again in a few hours. I just hope I’m not infectious. I wouldn’t wish this on my worst enemy…”
Harry nodded. “Easy there, Mr. Dorfling.” He looked at the doctor. “It’s called the Pangean Plague. Highly contagious and can be fatal to anyone who doesn’t have any resistance to it.”
“I’ve heard of it,” said the doctor, playing along, “but I’ve never seen a case. My grandfather talked about it, said it was usually fatal. I could try to find the remedy, but I’m certain it involved cultivating the blood of a person suffering from it.” He looked very concerned. “It is extremely contagious, and everyone who has been in contact with Mike is very likely to catch it within the next few hours.” He turned to the guard. “Have any of your people developed any of the symptoms?” The man was backing away from the bars and looking worried. “Any of them having hallucinations, or perhaps showing signs of a rash? Itchy skin?”
The man was now clearly frightened. “No. Yes!” He looked terrified. “Yeah, some of the lads—”
“Look, I suggest you move the men with symptoms to where they aren’t in contact with anyone else.” Boris paused for suspense. “You might be lucky, the rest of you might not catch this, but it may already be too late.”
The man almost ran out of the holding cells corridor, the door slamming behind him.
Boris chuckled. “Well, that was quick. Within half an hour, the Captain will be demanding that I cure everyone. What now, Commander?”
Harry’s grin was all smug satisfaction. “Now we let them frighten themselves into illness. In the meantime, I’m sure Mr. Leonard here knows how to unlock these irons, open the doors and show us to a place where we can be secure until the Fleet arrives.”
“We’ve received a message from Admiral Heron, sir. They’ve captured the Voyager and analysed her navigation data. The Commander’s gig was set adrift in the system we’re bound for.” Jenny Matlock sounded pleased. “And there’s an anomalous signal triggering the hypercoms, but no message.”
“Anomalous signal? Do we have a fix on it? Can we work out where it’s originating?” Ferghal swung his legs off the bunk and snatched his jacket off the back of the chair. “I’ll come. Do we have the full record from the Admiral?”
“Yes, sir. Pack Leader Lucanes is running a detailed check. He thinks they may have been jettisoned near a planet mapped in that section some years ago, but deemed unfit for human colonisation. It’s a binary system with a couple of planets, one in the habitable zone, but it’s hotter than a cold day in hell when both suns are in the right position. Each day is only fifteen hours, and the heat is relentless.”
Ferghal nodded. “Does it have a breathable atmosphere?”
“It does, but almost no surface water, even during the cool phases.”
“Pass this to the other ships. What’s our ETA in the system?”
“Forty-eight hours, sir.”
“What about that signal? Are we still getting it?”
“Yes, sir. On the nail, every hour, the hyperlinks trigger, but nothing comes through. The source triangulates to our destination.”
Ferghal nodded. He dared not hope for too much, but he prayed they’d find Harry alive. He shut his eyes and recalled the Angelus, recited it, then prayed to the Virgin Mary and all the saints he could recall to add their prayers for Harry’s safety.
Judging by the shouting coming from behind the door separating the cell block from the Enforcers, news of the plague would soon spread beyond the guards’ quarters.
“I suggest this would be a good moment to free us, Leonard, and then, perhaps to render that door inoperable. I think it would be very inconvenient to have some vengeful guards visit us.” Harry smiled at the Mechanist. “I assume you can do that. The shackle locks seem rather crude.”
Leonard looked offended. “Of course I can. I repair these things all the time. They’re worn out and need to be replaced. The same goes for the door lock.” He searched the lining of his jacket and produced a tool that Harry had never seen before. Two minutes later the handcuffs clattered to the floor. “There, simple really. Made by my great-great-grandfather.” He set to work on the barred door. “I’ll deal with the door to this section first, then I’ll release the rest of you.”
“Thank you, I think that is a very good idea.” Harry watched as Leo removed the cover plate from the door lock then fiddled with the mechanism before replacing the cover plate and returning to the cell. “There, they’ll think the lock has jammed.” Leo shrugged. “I assume you don’t want to remain here until your friends come, Commander. There is another way out, one they don’t know about. It hasn’t been opened for at least thirty cycles, and most of the Enforcers are too young to know it exists.”
Harry nodded. “You’re right, we need to remain hidden until we get a response from our transmitter.” He turned to Boris. “You said earlier that this city once housed thousands. Does that mean there are a lot of unoccupied residences now?”
Boris nodded. “Er, yes.” He brightened when he caught Harry’s drift. “Yes! And I know exactly where they won’t look.”
“Good.” Harry grinned. “Warrant, would you be so good as to arrange these manacles so it appears they have just been shed and we’ve—er—dematerialised.”
Ferghal nodded to the commanders of 847 and Seana. “Regidur, Sci’arade, we’ve picked up an anomalous signal, a distress call. Its point of origin is a system we were planning to visit in our search. As it is only two days from our present position, I propose we go there immediately and investigate it.”
The Canid gestured. “This signal may be a trap. Why does it not register on my systems?”
“It isn’t coming through the hyperlink beacons, but it is triggering them.” Ferghal paused. “It repeats every hour on the hour, a short very broadband signal. My coms officer says it looks like a signal from equipment that predates hyperspace travel.”
“We have seen this on our system,” said Sci’arade, the Lacertian. “I agree, we should investigate it.”
The Canid nodded. “So be it, Sword Wielder,” he said, using a nickname that he had given Ferghal during their battle against the Consortium on Regidur’s home planet Lycania. “It would not surprise us to find that Commander Heron has discovered some new way to bring discomfort to an enemy.” He gave a very canine-like open-mouthed smile and made a purring sound that rumbled from deep within his chest, which Ferghal had learned was the Canid’s way of enjoying a hearty laugh.
Chapter 19
Reunion
_________________________
Niamh stared at the papers in front
of her unseeing. It was so unfair what these boys had suffered: Harry, Ferghal and little Danny—who was not so little now, but had grown into a tall young man who no longer resembled the half-starved wraithlike boy he had been only five years ago. They were barely out of childhood and their teen years. If she had any say in the matter, Harry would not die at the hands of these evildoers who had such an over-inflated sense of power that they called themselves the Pantheon.
“Gods and goddesses…pffft!” she muttered in anger.
The opening of the front door startled her. “Mary! What a lovely surprise. Have you any news?”
Mary shook her head. “Hi, Aunt Niamh,” she said as she took off her coat and hung it on a peg in the hallway.” I’ve heard nothing. It’s so frustrating not being able to use even the public links to contact Ferghal or Danny. When will this nonsense end? I mean, come on, aren’t I a member of the public too?!” She sat on the sofa. “Why did I have to fall in love with a man who seems to attract the enemy at every turn? He’s such a good person, and he’s always targeted for some insane reason or another.” She took a deep breath and collected herself. “Do you think there’s any hope Harry has survived? That Senator Samland is a monster! How can anyone do what she has done and boast of it?”
“It takes a special kind of person to be that horrible…” Niamh stopped herself. “Has Harry ever mentioned that some members of our family experience a sort of dream when one of our own is in danger?”
“I don’t think so…” Mary frowned. “Wait, does it involve a horse?”
“That’s the one. James has it occasionally. I think Harry has it as well.” She paused. “James believes Harry is alive. All he would tell me was that he’d had a visit from The Horse—his code for the dream—and that it was restless and bridled but not saddled.”
Harry Heron: Hope Transcends Page 18