“President Floros announced about a half hour ago that he’s handing the government over to Serigala.”
“How did I miss that? They couldn’t have landed an army yet?” Unless there were more soldiers already on Alexandria than he estimated.
Captain Stiles helped the Ambassador into her chair and passed her a drink. He took up the explanation. “Sir, they sent in a small force and grabbed him. He couldn’t resist. If those incoming ships are from Serigala, they could wipe everyone out just by punching enough holes in the domes from orbit.”
“Was it Wingate who attacked?”
“No, sir. I think Wingate is middle management in this larger scheme. Serigala has some High Marshal or maybe a General running around, but we haven’t seen him. We’ve been trying to gather as much information as we can, but most of the planet is in a state of panic.”
Jason could only stare in shock. He sat on the edge of a loveseat and put his face in his hands. Think dammit, think. There was something about this situation which defied logic.
“Are you okay, sir?”
Jason held up a hand and mumbled into the other. “Absorbing. Give me a moment.”
Wingate came here so Carson could do research away from Serigala with the freedom to interact with the rest of the universe. At the same time or about the same time, Serigala initiates plans to overtake Alexandria and starts building an underground stronghold. Jason shows up last month and interferes. So what? How could he change their timetable? If they’d planned to invade the planet, they should’ve waited for those ships to arrive. He hadn’t seen any tanks or other large equipment. The whole scheme seemed rushed somehow.
In a blazing flash of insight, it came to him. He looked up at Stiles with his mouth agape. “Umm, Captain.”
“Yes, sir.”
“Did you ever get that buoy information?”
“Not yet, sir. It should be here in another couple of hours. I don’t see how that could help.”
Jason hated this one-way bullshit. He needed to speak with the real people. “Captain Stiles, let me ask you this. If you were planning on invading a planet, and you weren’t ready yet, what would you do if someone else showed up in force?”
The Captain pasted a puzzled expression on his face. He turned to the ambassador and then back again. “Someone else, sir? Who?”
Jason waved off the remark. “Forget who for the moment.”
“I… I… I don’t know, sir. I suppose I’d pack up and leave.”
“But what if you can’t? Let’s say someone back home has left you no way to escape. Maybe they’ve told you to either succeed or don’t bother coming home.”
“But as far as I know, sir, there isn’t anyone who’d come in here and threaten Alexandria or defend them for that matter.”
“That’s where you’re wrong, Captain.” A grin spread across Jason’s face. “That’s where you’re dead wrong.”
“If you know something I don’t, I wish you’d explain yourself.” Frustrated with his uncertainty, Stiles added a quick, “My Prince,” a couple of seconds late.
The Ambassador finally interjected an opinion. “I don’t know any other planets willing to risk an embargo from the rest of humanity if they go hostile. But if those ships aren’t from Serigala, I’d bluff in their situation.”
Jason pointed at Tully. “Exactly. They can’t leave, and if they stay, they have to be in charge before those ships arrive.”
“Why?” The Captain didn’t like being in the dark and was sounding plaintive. He didn’t understand the implications, but Tully knew galactic law.
She said, “Because, if Alexandria is already seceded to Serigala, then anyone showing up to help will be attacking a Serigala colony, not defending an independent Alexandria.”
“Ridiculous!” Stiles choked out. “Or at least that seems like a fine line to tread.”
“The thinnest,” Jason agreed. “Think about it from the point of view of whomever is commanding that incoming fleet. As they come into range, they’ll begin getting the automated planetary broadcast. If that broadcast is the normal commercial for tourists to come on down and spend money, they’ll eventually find out from someone down here that Alexandria is in the middle of an invasion. In that situation, a force from just about any planet will be in the right to come charging down here to help Alexandria. However, if they show up after Serigala has forced their claim, then at the very least that same commander might decide he’d better call home for orders before starting a war.”
“It still sounds absurd,” Stiles said.
“But I don’t think I’ve left Serigala much choice. They know I’m here, and they know my father won’t tolerate them getting my DNA. Ambassador, did President… President…” He couldn’t remember the name and snapped his fingers a couple of times.
“President Floros,” Tully added helpfully.
“Floros, right. Did President Floros have some kind of ceremony? Sign any documents in public?”
“Not yet, sir.” She took a sip of her drink. “I’m sure they’ll have something for everyone to watch.”
Yes, Jason was sure of that also. A quickly thrown together ceremony to make sure as many people as possible saw it all official-like. “If whoever is running this shitshow has a brain cell in their head, they’ll do it fast and without letting Floros know those ships aren’t coming from Serigala.”
“How can you be so sure of that, sir? They could still be Serigala Marines about to land.”
Jason shook his head. “No, Captain. Not a chance now that I think about the timing. Let me ask you something. If you could send a message directly to Serigala from here — which you can’t because of the embargo — how long would it take?”
Stiles shrugged. “Maybe five weeks.”
“So, assuming the fastest message they could send, went out the first day I stepped foot on Alexandria, and that’s stretching the point because they’d have no reason to do it from day one, the message would just be getting to Serigala about now.”
Stiles nodded. “Give or take a few days, I suppose.”
Jason lifted his chin. “What you don’t know is that I sent a message home about a month ago telling my father about the stolen blood and asking for help. Rhime is a lot closer. There’s been enough time for a response by now.”
“And he sent a fleet?” Stiles was incredulous.
“You have no idea what he’d risk to keep that blood out of anyone’s hands. Those ships are probably coming to get me and the blood. I bet they have no idea what’s happening here.”
Stiles scratched his head and wrinkled his face in thought. “Why go to Santiago first and come in this way?”
Jason couldn’t be certain of the tactics, but he didn’t think his father’s military would have any better explanation for showing up in force than a Serigala fleet. They wouldn’t go around announcing anything about a missing Jason. “We can find those answers later. I’ve got to get a message to Floros, or to one of you. You won’t be remembering this conversation when I leave. Any suggestions, Captain?”
Stiles asked, “What does your cell look like? What resources do you have, sir?”
Well, he had a half a bottle of water, but that wouldn’t help. He drummed his fingers along his knee while deep in thought. “Not much, but I have a better idea.”
Jason said a few polite goodbyes to faux Ambassador Tully, a pointless gesture, and shifted his focus. From within the Mirre, he pulled the simulated Captain Stiles into the dream version of his prison.
Jason gestured to the room at large. “Here you go, Captain. If you can figure out a way out of here, be my guest.”
Confused by the instant change in venue, it took a few moments for Stiles to compose himself. He circled the little room. Crouching down, he checked the hole in the one wall and poked at the plate behind. “If you had some tools and a computer, you could tap into these fibers.”
“I don’t think that’s an option, but there’s a robot in the room next do
or.”
Stiles turned to him with a smile. “Robot?”
“In there.” Jason pointed to the larger hole. “It’s only a cheap janitorial model. I couldn’t get into the computer.”
Stiles went through the torn out wall that led to the closet. Jason heard a loud bark of a laugh, and the Captain’s head poked back through. “My Prince, I’m guessing anything I do in here won’t affect the real world?”
“Yes, Captain.”
“How good are you with software, sir?” He didn’t wait for Jason to answer. “Never mind that. I can teach you, but we’ll have to act fast. I hope you have a good memory, sir.”
Jason stepped to the hole and asked, “What did you have in mind?”
Chapter Twenty-Five
Okay, so maybe Captain Stiles worked security and had training in these matters, but Jason was still a bit upset for not seeing the same thing. After all, his Freesion war game simulator had him acting out covert operations all the time.
Back in the real cell an hour later, Jason unlatched the maintenance panel on the janitor robot. Stiles had been amazingly familiar with the device or at least he acted that way. Still, Jason needed to stop the Mirre, go back to his cell, open the robot, examine everything well enough to get the information into his head, and then go back to a fresh Stiles simulacrum and begin the tedious explanations all over again. It was like restarting a damned escort mission in a game.
In a world where just about everything had a computer inside it, connections to outside servers, supplying updates and the like were the norm. This particular device had a link to the planetary grid, allowing whoever was in charge to transmit directions, check and reorder the cleaning supplies, and monitor the bot’s working condition.
Jason followed the instructions Stiles had given him to break out of the manufacturer's program and into the next level of software through a diagnostic program.
It took another wasted fifteen minutes to get past a low-level technician who had trouble believing he was being contacted by the Emperor’s son through a Shabin Industries help request page. After a few more repeat shouts and transfers up the chain of command, he finally reached the real Captain Stiles.
“Sir!” The Captain looked poleaxed under his weary stubble-faced expression. “Where are you?”
Jason was certain he looked just as bad but tried to convey his imaginary authority with confidence. “Calm, Captain. Calm yourself. Can you get a message to President Floros?”
“Floros? Sir, we have to get you out of here. We’re about to be overrun. There’s an invasion fleet coming in from Serigala!” The man was absolutely frantic.
Jason kept himself to a serene tone and expression. “Attention, please.” He’d found speaking softly to be far more effective than shouting in these situations. He held up a finger waiting for the man to come out of his fervor.
Stiles stopped spouting and went rigid. “Yes, my Prince?”
“Stop wasting time packing. You have one ultimate task for the moment. Get to President Floros and warn him to stall until the ships arrive. They aren’t from Serigala. Failing that, disrupt the ceremony. They have announced some type of surrender ceremony by now, I assume?”
“Yes, sir. In a couple of hours. May I ask how you know all of this, sir?”
“No time, Captain. Follow your orders. Do not let the President sign anything until those ships get close enough for everyone to realize who they are. I’m guessing the embassy will be contacted while they’re still a few hours away.”
“Contacted by who, sir?”
Jason grinned, but it faded fast. His assumptions could end up getting a lot of people killed if he was wrong. “Why, Captain, those are our ships. Daddy’s come to rescue me.” Rescue his blood sample was the more probable mission directive. Jason briefly wondered if they had orders to accidentally-on-purpose let him die during the excursion.
Confused, bewildered or just plain dumbfounded, Stiles said, “Our ships, sir?”
“Yes, Captain.” Jason let himself draw out the words. “No time. If you need a political explanation while you’re working, go ask Ambassador Tully what the difference between our ships showing up before or after the ink dries on a surrender agreement. Make sure she understands those ships aren’t Serigala Marines.”
“What about you, sir? We’ve been trying to reorganize to get you out during all the disarray. Are you free?”
“No, I’m not free, but I don’t think you need to worry about me for the moment. I’m their ace in the hole. They’re going to use me as a pawn to negotiate with our fleet if this goes bad for them.” And it would go bad for them and everyone else on Alexandria. His father was acting crazy enough lately to risk starting an all-out war. Later, Rhime would get crushed under a full force from Serigala.
Stiles kept his manner stiff. “I’m not comfortable with that, my Prince.”
Jason smiled and gave the man a nod. “I appreciate that, Captain, but I doubt you have enough people to storm this compound. They’re on high alert around here, and there are more than we thought. If anything, I’m worried about the Herodians and Dr. Wilkes. They are probably considered expendable.”
The Captain opened his mouth to interject another complaint or opinion, but Jason had enough. “I’m trying to stop a war, Captain. Go! I’ll contact you again in an hour.”
The man tightened his lips into a thin line hard enough for them to go white. “Yes, sir.”
Noises rang out in the hallway. “Gotta go.” He quickly cut the connection and stumbled through the broken wall and back to his room.
The stairwell door clinked as it closed and boots scuffed down the corridor. They continued past his room and opened the lab next door. It might just be supplies going into the lab, or they could be doing something to Dr. Wilkes. Either way, he was powerless to intervene.
Jason went back to sitting on the floor and waiting. A couple of minutes later, the footsteps came again and left the sixth floor. He strained his ears, trying to determine if there was an extra set of feet this time but couldn’t make out a noticeable difference.
More bored than anything else, he went to check on Dr. Wilkes. He’d done more shifts into the Mirre this past month than he’d done in the previous year. It stressed his mind. He even had a few occasions where he’d forgotten if he was addressing a real human or a copy. The person he missed the most and wanted to contact was Sparrow, but he refused to break his promise again.
Jason took in a deep inhalation and mentally prepared himself for another round of startled doctor. Harold Wilkes. Corner of lab. The man would be shaken to his core if his real body was walking up the stairs right now.
The comforting wash rolled over Jason, and he found himself in the lab next door. Dr. Wilkes jumped at his entrance.
“Jason! You’re alive!”
Jason blew out an exhaustive breath. This seemed to be one of the only responses he’d gotten from Dr. Wilkes that was always the same. Lies would mutate with repeated questioning, but the truth was always consistent. Whatever the doctor’s level of involvement in this scheme, he genuinely cared if Jason was living or dead.
“Yes, I’m alive, Dr. Wilkes. I’m locked in the room next to your lab. Who just came in here?”
Wide-eyed and with slow deliberation, the doctor blinked a few times. Jason had seen images of owls back on ancient Earth that did the same. “Locked? Next door? What are you doing on Alexandria, my err, sir?”
Jason glared at the man. “I came after my blood, doctor. Did you think I’d just let them take it? Who was in here a moment ago? Focus.”
“I thought… Well, I’m not sure what I thought.” His attention wandered. “This is the Mirre, isn’t it?” His eyes scanned the lab. “I… I don’t know their names. It was a couple of my guards… soldiers. From Serigala. Do you know about Serigala, my uhh… sir?”
Jason chewed his bottom lip. “Oh, I know all about Serigala. What did they want?”
“They told me to wrap up any expe
riments I have running. Apparently, I’m going someplace.”
“I see.” Perhaps Wilkes was headed for Serigala. Those damned ships better not be their armada. “Well, assuming you’re still willing to work for them, I’m guessing they won’t kill you.” Jason had already been through a few rounds of questions with the doctor concerning the Herodian cloning tanks upstairs, and his answers stayed the same each time.
“Well, yes. I’m…” The rumpled man kept his eyes on his feet. “I’m being as inefficient as I can without it seeming obvious.” He let out a resigned sigh. “They’ll kill my family if I stop.”
“Yes, yes.” Jason had heard this too many times already. “You and I have discussed the issue. Doctor, how long will it take them to grow a cloned Herodian embryo to maturity?”
The man shrugged. “They need to figure out how to clone one first. And it would depend on if the growth was natural or accelerated.”
Damn. Jason hoped to trip Wilkes up with the question. He wasn’t sure he wanted to explain the current situation to the doctor again. “How about this, do we know how long the Herodians gestated?”
“Oh, yes.” Wilkes perked up with questions concerning topics that interested him. “They had a five-month — that’s human-standard months — gestation time. They had a fascinating reproductive system and society. Three sexes.”
Jason knew about the tertiary sex aspect. It was part of the reason his great-grandfather had such an easy time slipping DNA sections from them into humans. They didn’t have males and females as such. They had one sex which donated half of the chromosomes and another which supplied the second half. The third sex took both halves and performed the gestation, incorporating a few bits and pieces from their own DNA during the process.
It made for an interesting variety of social implications. The gestating sex comprised only about fifteen percent of the population, making them the rulers in some portions of Herodian history and the targets of forced biological slavery in others.
It hadn’t crossed his mind before, but now Jason wondered which sexes were inside those tanks. Priorities for later. “Do we know how old they were when they started using the Mirre?”
Shabin- The Reluctant Prince of Rhime Page 21