Over the rest of the day, in between moving rocks and removing now badly decomposing bodies, Keryn sketched out her plan for escape. Smiles broke across the faces of the other two, only to quickly disappear as the Terran guards passed by. They listened intently as she explained the specifics of her plan in graphic detail, tracing each person’s responsibilities. The others added their input, pointing out weaknesses on the flanks of the proposed squadrons and their individual movement, making recommendations about key points of interest which they needed to attack sooner during the plan. By the end of the day, all three were content that their plan could be a complete success; they had created a plan that would get them off the planet and strike against the Terrans with such surprise and force that they would never have a chance to mount a defense of their own.
It is a good plan, the Voice said as they gathered to leave their work area. We will succeed, assuming Alcent can live up to his end of the bargain.
On the fourth day, as they worked again in the fields, they were approached by an Oterian as they sat on the ground, enjoying one of the few breaks they received throughout the day.
“Got anything to eat?” the Oterian asked, his head held low and his voice barely discernable as he mumbled under his breath.
“Sorry,” Penchant answered, turning his featureless black face toward the newcomer, “but we’re fresh out. You’re welcome to pull up a piece of ground, though.” The Lithid’s attitude had changed greatly since their arrival on the planet. His coarse and often harsh responses to people had been tempered on the frigid planet. As he moved through the rubble fields, he openly sought camaraderie with his fellow survivors, often getting rebuked by the overly downtrodden, but making friends as well.
“No,” the Oterian said, shaking his head, “I’ve got to keep moving on.” He raised his head and Keryn noticed strength behind his eyes that belied his defeatist demeanor. “But Alcent is ready to see you all. Tonight, after curfew, meet him at the store.” A smile crept across the Oterian’s lips. “He wanted me to let you know that if you have lived up to your end of the bargain, he’s more than prepared to live up to his.”
The blank and exhausted look returning to his face, the Oterian turned and shuffled away, asking the next few collections of survivors if they had any food to spare. Keryn looked at the other two, her heart beating heavily in her chest. If Alcent was able to do all he had promised, then their plan was guaranteed to be a success. By the end of the week, they’d all be free of Othus.
That night, Adam and Keryn struck out from House 12, leaving Penchant behind. The bracelet that was firmly attached to his wrist was a tracking mechanism. They couldn’t risk exposing their operation before the plan could even begin, knowing that the Terrans could monitor all Lithid movements within the city from their Fleet destroyer orbiting the planet. The bracelet also housed a significant amount of explosives, explosives that could be remotely detonated from anywhere within the city. Begrudgingly, Penchant had agreed to stay in the house while the other two made the meeting.
For Keryn, the careful walk to the abandoned department store was a more confident affair this time around. Aside from having done this previously, she now had the comfort of having Adam’s protection as they bisected the residential area and moved into the commercial district of town. With an odd sense of deja vu, Keryn glanced around in the darkness before slipping through the broken glass, followed quickly by Adam’s hulking form.
The darkness was as oppressive as Keryn remembered within the store. She stood near the naked racks that once held clothing as her eyes adjusted to the dark. The wait was in vain, however, as she heard the familiar voice in the back of the store.
“Allow me,” Alcent’s voice came from the back, near the break room door. The back of the room was quickly bathed in a soft light as the Uligart, holding the lantern high, appeared from the gloom. Behind him, the two heavily armed bodyguards stood their stoic watch. Adam tensed as he saw the military assault rifles, but Keryn placed a calming hand over his.
“I was starting to think you wouldn’t call,” she said jokingly, diffusing the tension in the air. “You had me worried.”
Alcent chuckled to himself, lowering the light until it rested back on the floor. “I wanted to make sure you had time to fulfill your end of our arrangement before calling on you. You have had time to formulate a plan, I hope.” His eyebrows arched as he inquired.
“Don’t you worry about that,” Adam said defensively. “The question is, can you live up to your end. Do you have the men and weapons to pull this off?”
Alcent tilted his head to the side, looking condescendingly toward Adam. “Who is this man?” he asked, addressing Keryn. “He speaks to me so informally, having never met me.”
“His name is Decker,” she replied, already concerned that this conversation was getting off track by overdoses of testosterone. “Adam Decker, but we all just call him Adam. The Lithid with whom I’m sure you’ve been told is part of our group is named Penchant, though he, for obvious reasons, could not join us tonight.”
Alcent regained his composure, his face once again a mask of civility. “It’s a pleasure to meet you Adam, and I look forward to making the acquaintance of Penchant in the near future as well.” Alcent pulled a chair from behind the nearby table and sat, gesturing for Keryn to do the same. The Avalon bodyguard once again pulled a chair out for her before stepping back to his employer’s side. “Now let’s get down to business. I’ve given you a full three days to relay my request to your fellow patriots and to take the time to formulate a plan that will, beyond a reasonable doubt, succeed on getting rid of the Terran threat. How have you managed?”
Keryn smiled confidently. “We,” she emphasized the plural words, “have created a plan that you can be proud of.”
“Show me,” Alcent demanded.
Keryn pulled the tattered map of the city from beneath her jacket and smoothed its wrinkled edges on the display table between them. The highlights of the Terran occupancy were clearly marked on the hand-drawn map. Adam leaned heavily on the back of her chair as he watched her explain.
“The warehouses storing the small Terran ships that landed on the planet are located here,” she pointed at a set of boxes drawn on the map around the southern edge of the crater. “I’m sure you’re familiar with the tall warehouses with retractable rooftops that the Terrans installed after their arrival. I mean, they are hard to miss seeing as how their bombs leveled everything else in that part of town. Each building stores either a single soldier transport vessel or a pair of quick Terran fighters. The problem is that the Terran barracks,” she pointed at another set of square representations on the map just north of the crater, “are in dangerous proximity to the hangars. We would no sooner attack the hangars then we’d be overrun with Terran assault teams. And let’s not forget that the only person with the access codes to the hangars is the Terran Commander.”
“Lucience,” Alcent added. “The Commander’s name is Lucience. But you’re only telling me things that I already know. You’ll have to do a lot better if you expect my services.”
“I’m just laying the groundwork,” Keryn explained. “Until we are sure that we know all the facts, we can’t start making assumptions. Now I do happen to know one fact that you may not be aware of. I know where Lucience has been living during his time on Othus, and it isn’t in the command barracks near the crater.”
Alcent leaned forward, intrigued. “So where can we find Commander Lucience?”
Keryn pointed to the map. Her finger rested on a small box drawn near the edge of the ruined business district. “He’s been staying here, in a building that was made specifically to withstand great amounts of destruction both from within and without. Trust us, we know,” she said, her eyes sparkling.
“And what is this building?” Alcent asked his voice little more than a whisper.
“It used to be a bar,” Adam’s gruff voice added. “A bar called the Black Void.”
Alc
ent leaned back in his chair, impressed. “Please, do go on. I’d love to hear the rest of your plan.”
Over the next hour, Keryn and Adam took turns explaining in great detail their plan for escaping Miller’s Glen and defeating the Terran loyalists. Alcent listened intently, occasionally adding input when prompted, but mostly toying with the razor sharp bony protrusions across his jaw line. The map quickly became a jumble of arrows and circles, indicating unit movements and ambush locations. As the explanation came to a close, Alcent laughed heartily and clapped his hands.
“I love it,” he exclaimed. “I can see the look on their faces now. How I wish I could see Lucience’s face when his personal empire within Miller’s Glen comes crashing down around him!”
Keryn was glad to see her own excited smile reflected not only on Alcent’s face, but on both the bodyguards as well. She felt Adam place a reassuring hand on her back.
Her smile quickly dropped as the one hitch appeared in their plan. “There is still one problem, though,” she admitted.
“What did we miss?” Alcent asked.
“I can get us to the ships and I can get us off the planet. Being in a Terran ship may even fool everyone for a little while. But it doesn’t change the fact that there is a Terran Destroyer in orbit. The second it figures out our ruse, we’ll be obliterated.”
“That is where I come in,” Alcent answered, gesturing to the Terran bodyguard behind him. “You see, Siros has been working as a spy for us for the past couple weeks. The interesting thing about the Terran uniforms is that they are incredibly protective against the cold, but they do so by covering every inch of exposed skin. Put any Terran, Pilgrim or Empirical, in the suit, and there’s no way to tell the difference.”
Adam leaned over Keryn’s shoulder. “And what has your man learned?”
“Apparently, it takes a large number of soldiers to occupy an entire planet. Enough that you have to leave a Destroyer — the Ballistae, I believe they call it — with little to no crew on board.”
“They’re running on a skeleton crew?” Adam asked excitedly.
“They’re barely running the ship at all,” Alcent replied. “It’s in space as a deterrent. If we can not only get the codes for the hangars but also get the codes to dock with the Destroyer, I can get us an even better ship for interstellar transport; a ship that carries quite a more effective arsenal than a personnel carrier or fighter.”
Keryn’s eyes grew distant as she imagined commanding her own Destroyer. Captain Keryn of the DestroyerBallistae, the Voice added. It’s a good title and does have a nice ring to it.
“Then it looks like we have all the answers. Does this mean we have a deal?” she asked.
“Oh, we most certainly have a deal,” he replied excitedly. He coughed and cleared his throat, slicking his dark hair back and reasserting his composed demeanor. “If you both will follow us, we’ll show you our capabilities.”
Keryn and Adam followed the Alcent as the slipped back out the front window. The two bodyguards, their eyes scanning as they moved, covered the rear of their formation. Alcent cut across the commercial district, weaving through tight alleyways and disappearing into alcoves that seemed to go nowhere, but always dumped the group onto yet another back street. Even in the bewildering snow-covered streets, Alcent moved with a clear purpose through the city. The party moved out of the commercial district and entered an area comprised mostly of squat, one-story stone structures. These structures, which had once been home to the up and coming merchants of Miller’s Glen, were long since deserted. The Terrans had little interest in these buildings and the survivors, herded as they were like cattle from the fields to their sleeping areas and back again, were forbidden from entering this part of town. Once the Terrans had swept this area clean following the invasion, they had little reason to return aside from the sparse patrols.
Alcent led the group through the haphazard buildings. The roads leading through these stone homes and shops wound chaotically through the city, remaining on a straight path for no more than a few hundred feet before twisting away at right angles. The group approached a non-descript gray building. They walked up to the dull metal door and Alcent leaned forward, knocking out a quick code. His knuckles reverberated on the metal, the echo carrying clearly in the crisp night air. With a groan, the metal door swung inward and the group entered.
Keryn heard the Voice let out a cry of joy as her own mouth opened in surprise. Within the non-descript gray building, dozens of workers moved between stacks of wooden crates. They stopped intermittently, lifting assault rifles from boxes to check operability or placing grenades in pouches attached to combat vests. Other workers folded Terran uniforms; the black suits and fitted helmets with faceplates strikingly offset by the blue and yellow tiger stripes signifying unit designation. The bustle of activity implied an army marching to war. Which is true, the Voice said in awe, only the Terrans have no idea that it’s happening right underneath their noses.
“What was it you said you did before the invasion?” Adam asked, his voice sounding breathless as he watched a darkly dressed Uligart lift a rocket launcher from one of the crates.
“Simple merchant,” Alcent replied with a grin. He turned toward them before continuing. “You lived up to your end of the bargain, now let me live up to my end. These men are now your men. These weapons are now your weapons. How long will it take before you’re ready to strike?”
“Two days, tops,” Keryn replied, her childish glee barely concealed. “That’ll give us enough time to organize the men into assault groups and brief them on their responsibilities. Then, we’ll strike.”
“Then I’ll let the men know. Day after tomorrow, we send the Terran’s back to hell,” Alcent said, his own animosity toward the Terrans no longer disguised. “I look forward to it.”
“Two days,” Adam whispered behind her. “With your plan and his firepower, the Terrans don’t actually stand a chance.”
Two days, the Voice bemused. I can’t wait!
CHAPTER 22:
The door to the observation room opened and Horace’s bulking shape slipped through the doorway. Taking his place next to Yen, they both stared through the one-way glass at the dejected and sobbing form of Vangore, whose body shook with pain against the metal chair.
“Do you truly believe there was more than one person involved?” Yen asked without taking his eyes from Vangore.
Horace shrugged. “Does it matter? The questions I asked him are real concerns and, as of right now, he doesn’t have the answers for me. Either way, he’s an admitted murderer and will be executed.”
“But you are still concerned about how he transported the body?”
“Of course,” Horace replied. “I’m the Security Officer and, somehow, Vangore moved a body of a senior officer through the halls without anyone noticing. You can’t tell me that you aren’t intrigued as to how he pulled that off.”
Yen nodded. “Granted. I really would like to hear his answer to those questions. I just…” Yen paused, leaving his sentence unfinished.
Turning, Horace looked down on the smaller Yen. “You just?” he asked.
“I just wonder if the Crown is really the best way to go,” Yen said. He gestured toward Vangore, who rolled his head limply from side to side. “In four hours, you got the confession you wanted, but at what price to his mind? Can he survive another four hours of the Crown without his mind melting?”
Turning back toward the prisoner, Horace grunted to himself. He knew that there was at least some truth to what Yen was saying. Lithid research had proven that there were certain parts of the brain that worked as inhibitors, physical membranes that worked as mental blocks, compartmentalizing thoughts into “secrets”. The chemicals used by the Crown deteriorated these membranes until prisoners were willing to answer honestly any question posed by the interrogator. Should the prisoner be exposed to lengthy sessions under the influence of the Crown, however, the chemicals began acting as bile, seeping into the abdomin
al cavity. Like an acid, the chemicals spread, destroying parts of the brain controlling motor functions, speech patterns, and memories. Leave a prisoner under the influence of the Crown for long enough and they were left in a completely vegetative state.
“And if we don’t use the Crown,” Horace asked, “how do you propose to get the answers we need?”
Yen turned to the Oterian, matching his stern gaze. “Let me talk to him. It’s been a long time since anyone has used the psychological methods of interrogation, but I believe he is worn down enough from the Crown that he would be responsive to a more sympathetic face. I can get the answers from him without wasting any more of our time.”
Horace frowned and crossed his massive arms across his chest. He was clearly not receptive to the more primitive form of interrogation.
“Let me try,” Yen said. “The worst that can happen is I don’t get an answer and you reapply the Crown.” Reaching out, Yen patted the enormous Oterian arm. “Take an hour’s break; get something to eat and drink. Most importantly, let the Captain know that her former Communications Officer is guilty; she’ll be eager for that information. By the time you get done, we’ll know whether or not my technique was effective.”
“Maybe I could use a break,” Horace replied. As he pulled away from Yen’s hand, Yen retracted the blue energy that had pierced the Security Officer’s arm. “I’ll be back in an hour,” he said as he walked out the door.
“More than enough time,” Yen called to him as the psychic walked into the hallway and stopped in front of the interrogation room door. Waiting until the Oterian was around the corner, Yen entered the sterile, metal room. He closed the door behind him, leaning heavily on the thick door. Vangore didn’t raise his head as Yen entered, instead continuing to cry softly, his tears rolling down onto his chest.
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