by C M Dancha
Two militiamen put Joseph in restraints and gagged him.
“My son has assembled a massive army whose mission is to overthrow Earth, Florid and our allies. His wave of death is moving toward Earth as I speak. He is working hand-in-hand with the Yandans who have promised him riches and power to overthrow Earth. Fortunately, my Mentat uncovered the plot against Earth and brought it to my attention. I am so embarrassed… embarrassed that the son I showered with love is a traitor to his family and planet.”
A disappointed Prefect hung his head and wiped fake tears from his cheeks. His portrayal of a dejected parent was flawless. He let the crowd sympathize with his despair and build a hatred for the treacherous, good-for-nothing son. The Mentat who was at the rear of the stage looked on in disbelief. He didn’t warn the Prefect about an invading army led by his son. Was this a joke or fable created to enrage the crowd? Or, could it be the Prefect knew of his association with Millard, Beth, and the rebels within the Assembly? This had to be Conway’s way of driving a wedge of suspicion between them. He knew his days of being a trusted Mentat were over. From this day forward he was a disgraced, rogue Mentat.
The Prefect raised his head slowly and looked to the crowd with grim determination. He reached toward the heavens and screamed, “No….no, I will not allow these traitors to destroy the good folks of Earth and Florid. That will not happen.”
He shook his finger at the crowd so violently his entire upper body shuddered in rage. “I make you this promise. I will get to the bottom of this treachery and put an end to it. I don’t care what methods I use, even if I have to torture my own flesh and blood. The Yandan army led by my son will be destroyed. That is my promise to you. We will persevere.”
The crowd erupted in cheering and cat-calls. A few of the more enraged guests tried to rush the stage to attack Miller, Joseph Conway, and Beth. The militiamen guarding the stage made a half-hearted effort to push them back.
Prefect Conway took a satin cloth from his waistband and wiped the perspiration and spittle from his face. The carotid artery in his neck throbbed with less intensity. The overflow of blood to his face started to drain. His beet-red complexion returned to normal.
“The end to this menace will start now. Bring Millard Miller over here.”
The Secretary-General was dragged to the podium. A trail of his blood smeared the stage floor.
“Millard Miller, why are you an enemy of Earth?”
Miller stayed on his knees trying to catch his breath and avoid another butt-end of an assault rife. “I…I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
“Why do you lie? Do you deny that you conspired with members of the Assembly to overthrow the rightful government of Earth? Do you deny that you wanted to give condensator technology to Yanda? Do you deny that you did everything possible to push through the CASETA Agreement with Yanda? Were you opposed to a toxic gas agreement with Florid?”
“Yes, I did those things for the betterment of Earth. Anything to ….”
“You lie, dog. You did those things for your own self-interest and enrichment. You had a vested interest in having the CASETA Agreement signed with Yanda. You would profit handsomely from Yandan kick-backs. Unlucky for you, I found out about your plot to cheat the people of Earth.”
“That’s not true. I did everything for…”
The Prefect nodded his head and one of the militia goons gave Miller a quick kick to his kidneys. Miller rolled on his side and gasped for air. As the Prefect prepared to accuse Miller of another crime, the ground trembled. A few boulders dislodged from the mountainside and rolled onto the demonstration platform. Everyone in the stadium either fell to the ground or latched on to something to keep their footing.
“Ah, the Mikilopii gods have awakened.”
Prefect Conway looked to the lead technician for the condensator equipment. “How soon before the volcano spews its gases and lava?”
“Two minutes, Prefect.”
“Wonderful. The gods are going to be very satisfied this eruption.” He turned back to Miller. “One last question, dog. Do you deny that you conspired with the whore over there?”
Miller looked at Beth who was held in the royal throne by two militiamen. Her face paint ran down her cheeks in a rainbow of colors. There was no sense responding to the Prefect’s question. No matter how he answered the Prefect, it would be use it as evidence in a trumped-up conspiracy.
“Take this dog away. Feed him to Mikilopii.”
Miller struggled the best he could. Years of physical exercise tested the militia goons. The crowd watched as he fought the entire way to the top of the condensator. When the volcano rumbled again, the Prefect gave a thumbs down. Miller went head-first into the erupting volcano. The only sound heard was a scream from the militia goon who couldn’t break free from Miller’s grasp and went over the lip of the volcano to a fiery death. The crowd applauded and screamed their approval.
“Now, my son, it’s your turn. Are you going to cooperate or join your buddy, Miller?”
“You, pathetic piece of dung. You can kiss my ass. The only regret I have in life is you were my sperm donor. You certainly weren’t a father.”
“That’s not nice to say, Joseph. And, after all the nice things I did for you. I sent an agent to Alpha 30 to make sure you got safely back to Earth. I gave you a great homecoming party. And, I slept with your girlfriend for years. If that isn’t the description of a good father, I don’t know what is.”
Most of the crowd laughed at the Prefect's quip about bedding his son's girlfriend. Beth and Joseph fought to break free of their captors. They wanted to get their hands around the Prefect’s neck and strangle the life out of him. The more they struggled, the more Prefect Conway laughed at them.
“Kid, you have something I want. Earth needs your cloaking technology.”
The Prefect waited for his son to think about what he was demanding. “I'm sure you're wondering how I know about the cloaking technology. Do you remember the Verasiun agent on your transport? He was sent to Alpha 30 by Miller to kill you, but a strange thing happened. The Verasiun overheard you talking about your army's use of cloaked planets and weapon platforms. And, instead of killing you, he decided to make a deal with you. Well, he never got the chance to cash in on what he knew. However, he was nice enough to tell me about your cloaking technology.”
The Prefect laughed deviously to himself. “So, the question my dear boy is this. Are you going to help your old man or be an obstinate brat and refuse to cough-up how this technology works?”
Joseph knew his father would use the cloaking technology to overrun any planet that stood in his way to rule the universe. Planets would be given a choice. Either become an Earth colony or be destroyed by an invisible invasion force. As long as he withheld the secret of this technology from his old man, he had a chance to live. Giving up the information was signing his own death warrant.
“I have no idea what you are talking about, old man. Have you finally lost your mind? What cloaking technology?”
Prefect Conway grinned and shook his head. He had reached his limit of patience and didn’t have the time or energy to play mind games with his son.
“I really wish you hadn’t said that.” He turned and swaggered toward the lyft which would take him to the top of the condensator unit. “Bring the whore.”
Between the restrictor bracelets and militia goons, Joseph was locked in place. His gag was removed but the only part of his body he could move was his head. He watched his father, Mentat and two goons escort Beth into the lyft and ascend to the top of the condensator. When the doors opened, they dragged her by the hair onto the same viewing platform Miller was thrown from.
The Prefect turned on the audio system which amplified everything spoken at the top of the condensator and on the stage below. “Hello, down there, boy. Now I’m going to ask you only once. Are you willing to trade this whore’s life for your cloaking technology? Yes or no?”
The kid knew he was screwed. N
o matter what he decided was wrong. There was no negotiating with a psychotic like his father. There was nothing he could counter-offer to keep the old man in check. The final question was simple. Should he and Beth die now or try to delay the inevitable and hope for a miracle?
“I’m waiting, son. You have ten seconds and then your love goes into the belly of Mikilopii.”
The crowd below screamed for her execution. Few of them understood what was at stake. They had no idea what the Prefect was talking about when he described a cloaked army, Alpha 30 and a Verasiun assassin.
“Okay, okay. I’ll tell you. Just leave her alone. Let her go and I’ll tell you.”
“Boy, when will you learn your old man is smarter than you? You come up here and place a communication to your lead physicist. As soon as he makes the specifications transfer to my physicists, I’ll let Beth go.”
“How do I know you’ll keep your end of the bargain?”
“You don’t. You have exactly thirty seconds to get your ass up here or watch her go into the volcano. Hear that rumble? The Mikilopii gods are hungry, again.”
“Then tell these monkeys to take off my restrictor bracelets so I can walk and use my hands.”
The Prefect nodded to the goons below. The guards led the kid to the lyft for the fifteen-second ride to the top of the condensator. It was the shortest fifteen seconds of the kid’s life. He racked his brain trying to think of a way to turn the tables on his old man. When the lyft stopped at the summit he was still groping for a solution.
“Beth are you okay? Don’t cry, darling.” Joseph tried to hug her but was shoved toward the communications control panel.
“You can play with her later, Joseph. Place the communication and let’s get this over with.”
Everyone listened as Joseph placed a communication to a private comm number. Whoever answered on the other end was frantic. The destruction of Ziptowtheon had left the armada leaderless. They didn’t know whether to go forward with the assault on Yanda, retreat or wait for new instructions.
“First Comrade Joseph, what are we to do?”
Joseph stalled for more time trying to think of a way out of his predicament. There wasn’t one. He was in a corner with no escape.
“Soldier, your orders are to stand-down. The authorization code is State Street 64. Also, I want you to have the cloaking specs transferred to this sender unit immediately. The authorization code for this is Old Hickory 99. Do you understand?”
“Yes, First Comrade. Stand down and transfer cloaking specs. Anything else, sir?”
“No, only verify the authorization codes and pass on my instructions to everyone in the armada. Also, thank everyone for a job well done. Take care, soldier.”
“That was very touching, Joseph. I didn’t know you were such a savvy leader. Another thing you picked up from me.” The Prefect laughed at his sarcastic remark. Anything he could do or say to belittle his son’s competency was worth a good laugh.
The transfer of cloaking technology took less than four minutes. Earth’s physicists did a flash verification of all the formulas to ensure they were correct and made sense. Mikilopii started to rumble again as the physicists pour over the data.
“Prefect, the data looks correct and the underlying theory is very plausible. In fact, the theory is simple. I can’t believe no one else thought of it.”
“Excellent. You have done well Joseph. Now, here is your reward.”
The Prefect nodded to the militia goons who took Beth by the arms and threw her over the observation platform railing. “That’s for calling me Honey Nuts, you bitch.”
“No. No.” Joseph ran to the railing, hoping to save his love. He never got there. The two goons beat him about the head and back with enforcement batons. When he was nearly unconscious, the goons looked to the Prefect for his approval to toss the kid over the railing. The Prefect gave a thumbs down. The crowd below roared with approval and delight. The real-life drama unfolding before them was better than most fictional plays and stories.
The goons bent over to pick up the kid. They didn’t make it. One was sliced in half and the other was lifted into the air and thrown over the railing like a rag doll. A quarter-mile from Mikilopii, Morg locked-in the transport’s laser cannons on targets and opened-up. After the two militia goons, he swept the mountainside taking out anyone who looked like he might be associated with Prefect Conway.
Joseph struggled to move along the platform floor. The beating left him with a cracked skull, shattered vertebrae, and many broken bones. He found one of the goon’s vap pistol and pointed it at his father.
“Son, you don’t want to do that. I’ll give you anything you want. Miller and Beth deserved…”
Morg watched the Prefect beg for his life. As much as he wanted to see the Prefect’s reign end, he needed to follow the Lead Trifect’s instructions. He opened up the transport’s external audio and spoke to the kid.
“Joseph don’t kill the Prefect. The Trifect needs to know about his cloaking technology.”
The kid took in a deep breath and mumbled, “It was me, Morg. It was my technology.” That was all he said before passing out.
Prefect Conway went for the vap pistol. Morg locked-in on him but didn’t know whether to fire or not. Should he believe the kid or consider this another one of his egotistic lies? He had milliseconds to decide. Either let him pick up the vap pistol or kill him. He hesitated too long. The Mentat walked up behind the Prefect, lifted him into the air and tossed him over the railing. The being who was trained as a truth detector had made Morg’s decision.
* * *
There was dead silence in the conference room. The three Trifect continued to stare at the halo-screen long after the broadcast stopped.
“Brothers, I think we just averted a major catastrophe.”
40
“Who’s that heading our way in the land cruisers?”
Morg squinted toward the horizon shielding his eyes from the two suns orbiting Feltte Six. His parabolic shaped ears heard the cruisers long before seeing them in the distance. From the reverberating sounds, Morg estimated their distance at roughly ten miles.
“Help me up, Morg. Damn, I hate these prosthetics. I feel like a marionette puppet.
Before Morg could turn around and help the kid, the Mentat lifted Joseph to a standing position. The kid was relieved to finally get out of the custom-built chair designed for patients recovering from spinal injuries. In the past two years, the kid’s skull fused back together, and his leg and arm bones mended as well as possible. He would never be a star athlete but that wasn’t a problem. He wasn’t known for his physical dexterity before being beaten silly by his father’s goons. The next year would tell the story of whether he could walk again without robotic prosthetics.
“Why don’t we call it a day. I don’t know about you guys, but this heat zaps the hell out of me. Let’s clean up for our guests.”
The kid, Jimmy Washington, and Mentat went into a mobile cleaning unit. They emerged five minutes later in fresh clothes and scrubbed clean from head to foot. Morg had his own mobile cleaning unit which used a custom-formulated, acidic wash rather than water. They relished the end of each day when the fine-grit pumice and sand washed down the drain.
None of them imagined they would end up as Molum crystal miners. Each day was ten hours of drudgery. Blast away to uncover new deposits of crystals. Load the ore into separators which extracted the valuable crystals. Then make sure every hauler transport was at maximum capacity before flying off to the Precious Mineral Exchange. On a good day, their crystals netted a fortune. On a bad day, they took in a smaller fortune.
Morg went to the mess hall and put enough dinners in the auto cooker to feed ten beings. That left a couple extra dinners in case neighbor miners dropped in for a visit. It was a rare evening when unexpected guests didn’t show up for camaraderie and Cannis laced drinks. For some reason, the two earthlings, Mentat and Yandan attracted other miners in the area. At first, Morg though
t it was because they were celebrities. After all, they took down the criminal regime of Prefect Conway. But, after two years he changed his mind. They were no longer considered celebrities but rather, the good guys who operated the Honey Nuts mining company.
Morg looked out of the mess hall at his partners. Each day he marveled at how four beings with such extreme and diverse backgrounds could become close friends. Somehow, a cab driver, truth detector, career military officer, and egomaniacal genius got along. In a rare instance of Yandan emotion, he smiled to himself and thanked his ancestors for the three pals who sat around the outdoor enviropit.
Morg had just enough time to pour himself a Cannis drink before the two land cruisers arrived. He wasn’t surprised to see Luna and Samantha, but the third guest was a shock. He took a large gulp of the Cannis drink and watched in amazement as the Lead Trifect disembarked.
“Lead Trifect, what are you doing here?”
“Well, officer Morg, I thought I’d better come out here to deliver this message in person. It seems your discharge from the military was never approved. Yandi, you are still on active duty.”
The normal gray and green of Morg’s face drained away. His pulse doubled and the repulsion glands behind his knees and elbows began to open to discharge their noxious smelling odor. The Lead Trifect knew what was coming so he quickly corrected his sarcastic remark.
“I’m kidding, Morg. Luna and Sam put me up to it. They thought it would be funny. It’s what the Earthlings call a joke. You should know Yanda doesn’t want an old fart like you in their modern military.”
Everyone around the enviropit started laughing. Even the Mentat broke a smile. Morg was still frozen in place, fearful there might be something more to the Lead Trifect’s antic.