The Second Fall

by G J Ogden

  “Are you certain we cannot spare one of the sector commanders?” said Kurren. He did not welcome the prospect of his temporary second-in-command being someone who was not already party to the plan.

  “If we place an unknown in command of a garrison, we lose our full ability to control that sector,” said Darien. “At least by assigning one of these men as your second, we can ensure he is closely managed and motivated.”

  Kuba nodded. “After all, what ambitious lieutenant or captain would not jump at the opportunity to serve his general? You will be able to control the message and ensure their compliance.”

  Kurren grunted again, though this time more half-heartedly, and moved out from behind the desk, taking up a position between Kuba and Darien – but just behind Kuba so that he could still keep an eye on him. He looked at the names and faces of the officers that Darien had selected. They were all relatively junior officers and Kurren realized he did not recognize any of them. As much as he hated to admit it, Kuba had been correct; he had lost his most senior and public-facing co-conspirators during the skirmishes with the Flying Corp and in the attack on the GPS station. He silently cursed Diana Neviah for causing him one last problem, but took comfort from the knowledge that the meddlesome woman was finally dead.

  “Would you like my recommendation, sir?” said Darien, who had been quietly studying the records.

  “Go on.”

  “I would go with Captain Karl Page.” Darien used his PVSM to remove the four other records, leaving only the entry for Captain Page remaining. The image of his face enlarged and a more detailed service record appeared beside it.

  Kurren scanned the information, focusing on Page’s military skills and test ratings, which were all strong. He was intelligent and competent; a model officer in many respects, Kurren thought, but he saw nothing to distinguish Page from the others, who were all also good soldiers. “Why him?” he asked, gruffly.

  “Loyalty,” said Darien without hesitation. He had anticipated Kurren’s question and was confident in his assessment. “His record is spotless. He believes in the UEC and the chain of command, and his psych profile suggests that he is without ego or the need to gain approval.”

  Kurren frowned; he was already tired of this exercise. “Sounds like he lacks ambition. Why would I want a man with no drive as my second?”

  “Because he is not interested in power,” interrupted Kuba, half-smiling at Darien; he was impressed at his insight. “He will work for you and not against you. In short, General, you can trust him.”

  Kurren looked from Kuba back to Darien, who was nodding in agreement. Then he stared back at the face of Captain Karl Page; it was a thoughtful face, Kurren considered, lacking the hard edges of some of the more ruthless officers he knew, and had been careful to avoid involving in his plan.

  “Very well done, Commander,” said Kuba, silkily, in an obvious attempt to break the impasse. “I agree, he is a fine choice.”

  Kurren ignored the politician and kept his back to the two men. Darien was right; loyalty was the most important factor to consider. He did not need another man like Kuba; a man who would play politics and pay lip service, but only remain allied for as long as it was in his own best interests.

  “Does he believe in the cause?” asked Kurren, after another silent minute had passed.

  “I’m afraid that will be for you to decide,” said Darien. “Or perhaps to... persuade him.”

  Kurren looked over at Kuba, who still had a stupid half-smile on his face; an expression that Kurren had grown to hate from Archer, and hated even more from his replacement.

  “Kuba, you may return to your duties,” Kurren said, waving his hand nonchalantly at the politician. “And I expect these public disturbances to be resolved, swiftly.”

  “Of course, General,” Kuba replied, before bowing his head politely and walking swiftly out of the door, glad of the opportunity to escape the claustrophobic oppressiveness of Kurren’s constant scrutiny.

  “Do you still need me?” said Darien, wincing in pain again as he shifted his seating position.

  Kurren smiled; Archer’s unbearable guest chairs were the only feature of his new office that he hadn’t wanted to change. “Not right now, no,” he said. “But I need you to recover quickly; I need you back out there, intimidating the men and showing the public that we’re in control.”

  “Yes, sir,” said Darien, and then he tried to stand, but between the leg brace, the metal crutch, and the impossible chair, he was struggling. Kurren stepped forward and offered his hand; Darien looked up at the General briefly, surprised by the offer, but grateful of it. He took Kurren’s hand and was hoisted upright by the powerful older man. Kurren continued to grip Darien’s hand, even after he had steadied himself.

  “And I also need you to ensure that Kuba’s ambitions are kept in check.”

  “Always…” Darien replied, smiling. Kurren released his grip and Darien hobbled back a couple of paces, adjusting the controls of the mechanical brace to increase the level of assistance it offered. The device whirred smoothly and Darien’s unsteady stance stabilized. “Though while I’m in this thing,” he added, slapping the metal brace, “I think you’re in a far better position to keep watch over our slippery Acting Governor.”

  “I have other matters to attend to,” said Kurren, darkly.

  Darien felt a chill, as if Kurren’s words had blown an icy breeze over his skin. “So you mean to go after her then?”

  “No loose ends, Commander. The victory must be total and Maria Salus must be made an example of.”

  Darien’s eyes widened. “I meant your wife, sir. Her defection is a problem we haven’t discussed yet.”

  “She did not defect!” Kurren cut-in, sharply. Then, as if embarrassed by his quick-tempered reaction, he backed down and spoke with more restraint. “She was abducted. This rumor must be stopped at once; I expect you to see to it.”

  Darien stiffened in an attempt to stand to attention. “Of course, sir, I will deal with it.”

  “The traitor, Maria Salus, coerced and kidnapped them,” Kurren went on, having regained his composure. “She intended to hold them hostage. It was an act of cowardice by Salus and Neviah; my wife did not defect. Are we clear?”

  “Yes, sir,” replied Darien, promptly. “I will see to it that the section commanders relay this information, and punish any who spread subversive rumors to the contrary.”

  “Good,” said Kurren. “See to it that Kuba does the same through the public holos, and makes sure that the other ministers understand the price of spreading such rumors.”

  “I will see to it,” said Darien again. “But still, are you sure about pursuing Commander Salus? With me in this condition, you are needed here.”

  Kurren said nothing for a moment, and then eased back and rested against the desk, relaxing his rigidly formal stance for the first time since Darien had arrived. Kurren knew that Darien was right, but the truth was that he couldn’t shake Maria Salus from his mind. There was already unfinished business between them after she defied and humiliated him five years ago, allowing the planetsider to live and return to the surface in the warship – the weapon that would have won the war years earlier. Now, she mocked him again by escaping the destruction of the space station and stealing his family away from him. The shame he felt over his wife’s defection – shame that he had been trying desperately to hide from Kuba and Darien – was eclipsed only by Kurren’s burning hatred of Maria and her betrayal. It was all he had been able to think about for so long that it had consumed him and left no room in his heart for anything other than vengeance. That Salus had cost him the warship was bad enough, but in the years since that day, she had also cost him his marriage and Archer’s trust.

  Somehow, Maria Salus had twisted Archer against the cause, and in doing so she had supplanted him at Archer’s side. For this and her other slights against him there must be retribution. Maria Salus must die, by his own hand. But he also knew that these selfish and emo
tional motives would not satisfy Kuba, or even Major Darien. They would consider him rash, perhaps even unhinged, and question his fitness to command. So to them, he must offer a different reason. A lie.

  “How can we expect these people to follow a leader who abandons his own family?” said Kurren, as if the statement should have been obvious and Darien was stupid for not realizing the need to pursue Maria Salus. “The people must see that we stand together as we enter this new era. So if I do not even fight to save my own family, how can I expect them to entrust me with the safety of their own?”

  Like all good lies, there was an element of truth to what Kurren had told Darien. He did want his family by his side, or at least his children. However, this was not because of his love for them, but because it made him look virtuous. Kurren cared little for political power; his ambition was to be immortalized in history as the man who won the war. He wanted to be seen as a hero. And what hero would abandon his own children?

  “I understand, sir,” said Darien. “So I assume you will be wanting an update on the transport?”

  “Is it ready?” asked Kurren, pushing away from the desk and resuming his formal pose, hands behind his back.

  “Here, let me show you before I go,” said Darien. He entered a series of commands into his PVSM and brought up the status report for the transport ship that Kurren had been working on in secret for months, with the intention of conducting a planetary reconnaissance mission once GPS had been destroyed. He had ordered it to be made ready immediately, stating a rescue mission as the reason, though in reality he intended to hunt down Maria Salus and get back his sons. Recovering any of the other UEC defectors would merely be a bonus; something else to make him look good in the eyes of the people.

  A ghostly white image of a bulky-looking vessel appeared, floating in the space between the two men, steadily rotating around its horizontal axis. As it rotated the display periodically froze to highlight different sections of the ship, from propulsion to sensors, heat shielding and so on, with accompanying status displays and readouts.

  “It’s the largest re-entry and escape-velocity capable vessel we could safely retro-fit to the design specifications of the UEC transit shuttle that was recovered from the planet’s surface,” said Darien, as the image rotated.

  Kurren studied the design and the technical data. Not all of the systems were ready – there were no weapons, for example – but it would serve its intended purpose well enough. “So, this is capable of surviving entry and making orbit again?”

  “The simulations say so, yes. That UEC shuttle was a goldmine of information. Before, this ship would have probably made it down, but never back into orbit. However, with these modifications, we’re pretty confident it’s up the job.”

  Kurren stepped back behind his desk. “I need you to be more than ‘pretty confident’, Major Darien.” he said, sternly.

  Darien straightened again. “Yes sir, of course.” He had a tendency to be too casual in formal situations. Despite Kurren recommending him for promotion several times, Archer had always disliked Darien and considered him unprofessional. During one appraisal meeting, where Archer would go on to again refuse Darien’s promotion, he had even said so to his face, and Darien had loathed Archer for that ever since. Kurren knew this, of course, which was what made Darien one of the easier officers to turn, and one of the first to join Kurren’s side.

  “It’s not much to look at, General, but it will do the job,” Darien added, trying to sound more sure. “But it was never designed to haul hundreds of people back into orbit. You won’t be able to retrieve everyone.”

  “I don’t need to retrieve everyone,” Kurren said, listlessly. “The remaining GPS will die, either by resisting or by rotting from the radiation. I don’t care either way.”

  Darien was again chilled by Kurren’s coldness.

  “What of the ships that escaped the space station?” said Kurren, his mind re-focusing on the mission. “Do we have their locations yet?”

  “Neviah’s suicide run prevented us from determining an accurate entry trajectory,” said Darien, shaking his head. “The best we could do is a rough estimate, but we’re still looking at a search area of tens of thousands of miles, maybe more.”

  Kurren hammered his fist on the desk, causing one of the framed photographs of Archer’s two daughters to slide to the edge and fall. The glass in the frame smashed, sending sharp fragments dancing across the metal deck.

  Darien glanced down at the broken frame and the happy, smiling faces of the young girls looking up at him, and to his surprise, he felt a twinge of guilt and shame.

  “That’s not good enough, Commander,” Kurren barked, causing Darien to jerk his head back to face Kurren. “I need her found!”

  “I’ll make it a top priority.” Darien suddenly had an overwhelming urge to leave. “Will that be all, General?”

  Kurren regarded him for a few seconds, and then slumped back into his chair. “Yes, you may go, Commander,” he said, and then swiveled the seat to face the photos on the wall.

  Darien reached down to relax the level of assistance on his leg brace and then hobbled as quickly as he could to the door, the brace signaling his progress with a metallic chime that rang out with each step.

  “And have Captain Page sent over immediately,” Kurren added, almost as an afterthought.

  “Right away, sir,” said Darien.

  As he waited for the door to slide open, Darien looked back one more time at the photograph lying broken and discarded on the floor, and as the door thudded into the frame, he turned away and walked out.

  Chapter 12

  The crawler was quite unlike the transport that Ethan had travelled in previously. It was built largely from an open tubular framework with a small, enclosed cabin that could fit in three people, four at a push. Instead of wheels it had four triangular belts that Maria had called tracks, which were apparently better for crossing rough terrain, albeit at a slower pace than a regular transport. Not that the crawler was slow, however, and since their departure at dawn they had already covered more ground than Ethan could have managed in a solid two days of hard trekking.

  Ethan had stayed silent for the majority of the journey, and Maria had also not spoken for some time. He was not in the mood for a conversation and so had deliberately avoided Maria’s eyes. He remembered Summer’s scornful look before she had left them to brief the other rangers, and he regretted not speaking to her before he had left, even though it would surely have led to an argument. Ethan had wanted to reassure Summer again that Maria’s arrival changed nothing between them, but it was easier to simply avoid her, and now he felt shame and guilt for choosing the cowardly path. Summer deserved better, and by skulking away he was just reinforcing what she already believed. He could do nothing about it now though. Another reason for ignoring Maria was to avoid her asking the inevitable questions, such as, ‘what’s the matter?’ or ‘are you okay?’ Ever since their encounter in the forest, he knew that sooner or later they would have to talk about what had happened between them, and what Ethan had said to her before she had pushed him into the warship and launched him back to the planet.

  Maria glanced over at Ethan and saw that he was still quietly watching the landscape roll by through the side window.

  “The view must be amazing,” she said, returning her eyes to the terrain ahead.

  Ethan peeked at Maria and then also stared back out of the window. “It’s nothing new. I’ve been out this way before, just not this quickly.”

  “Oh… I see,” said Maria. Ethan had fallen into her trap. “It’s just that you’ve been staring out of that window for the last twenty minutes, so I assumed whatever is out there must be far more fascinating than talking to me.”

  Ethan swallowed hard, but did not answer. Maria glanced across at him again and shook her head. She examined the console of the crawler, inspecting the various controls and panels and found what she was looking for; she tapped the button, took her hands off th
e control column and shifted in her seat so that she was facing Ethan. She folded her arms across her chest, to emphasize the fact that she was no longer steering the crawler.

  Ethan’s eyes flicked anxiously over at Maria, and then back out of the window. After several agonizing seconds, he could stand it no longer. “Shouldn’t you be holding that thing?” he said, pointing to the control column, which was now moving of its own accord.

  “We need to talk, Ethan,” said Maria.

  Ethan looked out of the side window again, watching but not really seeing the yellow-green hills rush by. “I’m not good at that sort of talking, you know that.”

  “Don’t worry, I don’t mean to embarrass you,” Maria replied, “but, after the way we left things... you know, I think we need to talk about it.”

  Ethan looked at Maria, eyebrows raised. “You mean how you pushed me into a space ship and then sent me back here alone, not knowing whether you were going to live or die?”

  Maria smiled and unfolded her arms; she had got him on the end of her hook at last. “Well, yes, that.”

  “I don’t know why you’re smiling!” said Ethan, and then he was again distracted by the control column turning by itself. “Are you sure you don’t need to be holding that?”

  “Stop trying to change the subject,” said Maria. “Look, I got the sense that you and Summer... well, that your relationship may have changed in the last few years.”

  Ethan looked away again.

  “Look, it’s okay,” Maria continued, trying not to dig herself into a hole, but she was finding this more difficult than she had expected and was struggling to find the right words. “I’m not upset, I’m happy that you found your way home again and moved on with your life and that you...”

  “Got over you?” said Ethan, finishing her sentence.