The Prize: Book One

by Rob Buckman

  Then came that awful moment he so desperately wanted to forget, the moment when she reached the center of the parade ground and stopped, turning to face the troops. As if in slow motion, he watched her smile, then wave to the dignitaries before ripping off her dress. At that moment, time as he understood it slowed, and it seemed as if he had zoom vision, seeing every detail her lovely young body. The long slim legs, high proud breast just blossoming into snowy, pink tipped mounds, her golden hair shining in the early morning sun. It was then, that he saw the clear plastic cylinders filled with shiny ball bearing strapped to the front and back, of her upper torso. The whistles and catcalls die away as they all saw what she was wearing. He remembered thinking at that moment, that he wished she'd take the harness off so he could see her lovely body better, but like some magician’s trick her beauty distracted him from the true significance of the cylinder. Not that he or anyone could stop what was about to happen. Even shooting her would trigger the suicide vest.

  How she got there, or why no one stopped her walking out onto the parade ground in the first place, he never knew. He remembered the blissful smile on her beautiful face. The tears on her fresh young cheeks as she looked up at the bright blue sky, one last time. It was as if she were saying goodbye as she offered up her beautiful young body on the altar of freedom. Closing her eyes one last time, she triggered the device hidden in the flowers.

  The horror of the carnage was almost impossible to assimilate. So many dead, so many horrible wounds, and the blood. It was everywhere, coating the ground and walls of buildings as if some mad painter was at work. As stunned as he was by the blast and carnage, it was nothing in comparison to the despair he felt when he later discovered that she was one of twenty-seven other young girls, who'd sacrificed themselves at the Emperor's Birthday parades all over the planet. In one fell swoop, these human children had killed, maimed, and injured more Imperial soldiers, senior officers, and officials in an instant, than all the human soldiers had in the entire rebellion. It was by the grace of the Holy Mother he wasn't out on the reviewing stand with the other dignitaries that day, and yet. In those dark lonely hours before dawn when he lay in bed, shivering at the memory, he sometimes wished had been. At last, he managed to shake off the dark memories, and adjusting his cap he exited the ground car and walked into the Imperial HQ building. He silently cursed the Director of IMPSEC for forcing him to relive those memories again.

  CHAPTER FOUR:

  Shackled to the floor in the center of the shuttlecraft, Richard Penn contemplated the view out the side window, seeing air cars zipped back and forth in the traffic lanes between the hellish glitter of the Capital City's mega-skyscrapers. Garish advertising lit the sides of the tall buildings, promising everything from absolution to zarco sex, whatever that was. This place was the epicenter of the Tellurian Empire, the gleaming metropolis by which they judged all other cities in the Empire. Everything spread out from here to its far-flung reaches. Its laws, fashion, culture, religion, even hairstyles. It mattered not that the Empire imposed them at the point of a gun, as any dissent, or resistance could bring down the wrath of IMPSEC, and the Imperial Military at a moment's notice. To Penn's eyes this place was nothing but a stinking cesspool, no matter how many twinkling lights they tried to cover it with. There was nothing majestic, or grandiose about the place, and nothing to make it stand head and shoulder above other cities as it claimed. It was nothing but a hollow shell, all glitter, and fakery.

  It reminded him of some over-dressed whore, trying to hide her faded glory under a new coat of garish makeup. Only the country bumpkins from the outer reaches of the Empire, were fooled, and those that didn't know any better. For a brief moment he looked wistfully up at the canopy of stars. Somewhere out there was Earth, the cool green hills beckoning him home. Sadly, Penn knew that day would probably never come, seeing nothing but a lifetime of servitude to the Director of Imperial Security and Intelligence stretching before him. Penn looked out the side window at the lights of the Capital beyond, seeing them stretch away to the horizon. Somewhere out there was the object of his hatred, so near and yet so far. Out there, was Emperor Cytec and Director Markoff, but nothing he could do at this moment would, bring him one step closer to killing either of them. Instead, he savored his ice-cold anger, and took in sights of the mega-city far below. His time would come, sooner or later. They’d make a mistake before, give him a longer leash, forget to lock a door. It didn’t matter what, he’d be ready for that moment so he could kill more of these bastards.

  Even at this late hour, the streets below were full of people, mostly slaves coming, or going about their daily business, or heading toward some dirty hovel, they called home. Penn saw how they lived first-hand during a prior escape, and it reminded him of the books he'd once read, about ancient Rome. A small group of power elite at the top standing, on the backs of the poor and slaves, protected from the mob by the swords, or in this case, the guns of the military, and IMPSEC. With implants and constant IMPSEC monitoring, it wasn't hard for the few to control the many. Far below the denizen tried to scratch out a meager existence, or served the Empire in some way. Down there was a cutthroat world, as each tried to claw their way out of the cesspool, and find a better life. Not that there was much chance of that. The Var power elite made sure the lower class didn't get too far up the ladder before IMPSEC kicked them back down again.

  Many were third and fourth generation slaves from many worlds, conquered, or enslaved by the Empire, and brought here against their will to serve. If things didn't change, their grandchildren and great grandchildren would be slaves as well. In some ways, not unlike himself. Imperial Security made sure the poor never became a threat to the Emperor, or the power elite, and in the past IMPSEC had eradicated whole sections of the city, guilty and innocent alike to quell an uprising. They also periodically poured lethal nerve agents down the sewer, and tunnel system under the city to kill off the insect, rodent, or sentient life that might hide down there unseen.

  IMPSEC's iron hand filtered down through every layer of Imperial City life through its system of spy cams, traffic monitors, block police, agents, and snitches, and nothing went on unless IMPSEC permitted it, even the crime syndicates. IMPSEC made sure they got their cut first, or you didn't stay in business long. Gambling, drugs, prostitution, slaver rings, and any illegal business paid their dues, and flourished under IMPSEC's watchful eye. None getting powerful enough to become a threat to the status quo. He wondered if the Captain sitting against the cabin wall, knew or cared about the history of this glorious Empire he now served, betting he didn't.

  * * * * * *

  The Captain in question sat with his back to the wall, not that it made him feel any more secure, and contemplating his... prisoner or guest? He wasn't sure what this person's status was. His orders were to take him out of prison, bring him here and give him anything he wanted, within reason. Carras wondered what the human was thinking about. Escape probably. Director Markoff's orders were to prevent him from escape at any cost, short of killing, or permanently injuring him.

  They'd told him little else, not even that he'd be escorting a human, so the first sight of him coming out of that cell was a shock, but what had he actually expected, a monster? This man… or kid, was one of those fabled rebels who'd refused to surrender when they lost the uprising fifteen years ago. The story wasn't public knowledge, but a story soldiers whispered it to each other over a drink, or in a quiet corner of a Kaf parlor. Embellished, and enlarged as it went from mouth to mouth. Had the Empire actually slaughtered four billion of them? That was a question he'd dearly wanted to ask, and yet. If the other half of the story were even remotely true, that might not be such a good idea. According to the whispered story, these human's were so mad they would kill anyone, including each other at the drop of a hat.

  Looking at the young man sitting cross legged in the center of the shuttle, he didn't see anything unusual about him, other than his odd colored eyes. It was beyond him what made
humans so dangerous. A well built young man, just over two units tall, good-looking some might say, with an almost boyish face, under short reddish gold colored hair. He didn't appear to have any natural weapons such as claws or a thick armored hide. No extraordinary muscular development like the Esterian, or extra limbs, in fact, nothing that made him as dangerous as they said. Other than a smart mouth and a lousy attitude, he was no more threatening than a dozen young soldiers he encountered with on a daily basic. Just a little taller, and maybe a little stronger than the average. The current story going around was that this human had deliberately crashed a shuttlecraft into an Imperial Guard barracks, and personally killed two hundred trained guards. True or not, Carras felt safer with him shackled to the floor.

  * * * * * *

  If he thought their prisoner was docile, he was very much mistaken. Without even looking, Penn's highly tuned senses told him in which direction they were going, what altitude they were at, the position of each guard, and countless other bits of information. His conclusion was that it wasn't the right time or place to try and escape again. Having decided that he relaxed into watchful meditation as he gradually relaxed his left hand. Hidden with his crossed legs, he slowly folded his hand in half until the ball of his thumbs touched the outer edge of his palm, thereby making his hand narrower than his unusually thick wrists. Even with the muted thunder of the main engines, to cover any sound, he was careful not to drop the steel cuffs as he slipped first one, then the other off his wrists. It wasn't much of a trick, just a little painful, as he flexed his hand a few times to ease the pain, and get everything back in place.

  At last, the six-hour flight ended in the growing thunder of the lift engines as the shuttle settled gently onto the roof of a building. His escort shook themselves awake as they thumped down, hearing the whine of the landing jack electric motors as they took up the load, leveled the craft. Standing, Captain Carras hit the control to lower the rear ramp, looking around in the dim light just in time to see his prisoner stand. He did it in one smooth, flowing movement, with none of the stiffness you'd expect from someone who'd been sitting on an icy deck for six hours. The way the prisoner stood distracted him for a split second before it dawned on him his prisoner shouldn't be able to stand at all. Before he could move, the young man walked over and held out the cuffs.

  “Here, you might want these for your next prisoner.” Penn gave him a lop-sided grin, and moved back to the center of the cargo bay and stood there waiting.

  For a moment Captain Carras didn't know what to do, and stood there blinking. Looking down at the cuffs, he swallowed in fear. How long had the prisoner been free? He looked around at his men, suddenly understanding just how useless they were, if this human become lethal. That he hadn't, prompted him to do something he'd never do under any other circumstances. He walked down the ramp toward the roof entrance, deliberately presenting his unprotected back. It wasn't bravado. If this human wanted to kill him, he would have done so already, or when he walked up to him after they landed. That he hadn't, meant he probably wouldn't. Not much to hang your life on, and he killed the urge to look back, despite the itch between his shoulder blades.

  “Follow me,” he said over his shoulder. Penn followed, the guard squad trailed behind, unsure what else to do.

  Most were still in shock and trying to figure out how the prisoner managed to get out of a pair of magnetic cuffs. Like most people, they considered it impossible, and a lot of people had tried. Now they just felt stupid, and like their officer wondered how long he'd been free. Long enough to have killed them all was the General conclusion.

  * * * * * *

  "At ease, Captain.” General Tandy muttered as Carras entered the office, his hand moving in a half hearted salute, his eye locked on Richard Penn.

  "Yes, Sir.” The Captain Carras stuttered, not relaxing an inch, a little in awe at being in front of such illustrious company as the General, and a high Var.

  The General's continued to gaze at the human, feeling a little uneasy with an unshackled human standing just a few feet from him. The fact he was unshackled was also a little un-nerving, seeing the cuffs in Captain Carras’s hand instead of around Richard Penn’s wrists. It was the human's unblinking yellow eyes that grabbed his attention, like some bird of prey eyeing up a potential meal.

  "My name is Tandy, General Tandy. Have you been treated well Mr. Penn?” For a moment, Penn didn't answer, then shrugged his shoulders slightly. His expression didn't change, yet General Tandy could feel the bitter hatred emanating from him. In probably any other situation, this man would have killed him on the spot, and damn the odds.

  "I know who you are Tandy,” he said at last, “you're one of the Director Markoff's pet Var bitches. Go tell him from me to go screw himself.” Penn felt his anger rising, and quickly push it back down, and relaxed his stomach muscles. This wasn't the time or the place to let it get away from him and go berserker.

  “Watch your mouth, Penn…” Tandy felt his face reddens hearing, and understanding himself being referred to as Director's Markoff’s Var bitch, clenching his fist impotently.

  Obviously, Penn knew something about the class distinction, and what felt like to be a Var and subservient to a Surl. The Captain gasped softly in shock at the sheer impudence of the human. Any citizen that spoke to a member of the elite class that way would be stunned on the spot, and publicly flogged to death. So why didn't the General do it?

  "I'm not here to listen to you shoot your mouth off, you degenerate pile of brak shit! You keep it up, and I'll make you wish you'd kept your mouth shut!” That didn't stop the shadowy memories of that bight sunny day seeping to the surface, feeling a coldness grip his stomach. He knew exactly what these madmen were capable of.

  "Then why are you here, and come to that why am I?” Penn asked flatly.

  "Because I have an offer for you, and the possibility of a pardon if you accept.”

  "Not interested.” Penn answered, his voice full of cold contempt, brushing the offer of a pardon aside with a cutting motion of his hand.

  "You haven't heard my offer yet.” General Tandy bit back on his anger.

  "Still not interested, send me back to my cell.”

  "I… I can't do that.” The General stammered into the silence. Cursing Markoff and his underhanded scheming.

  Penn closed his eyes and shook his head slightly. For a brief moment, he felt a spark of sympathy for the General. He was in as much of a trap as he was. The spark died. Tandy had made his choice, and still had one. There were places in the galaxy he could run where the Empire, or IMPSEC couldn't reach him, but Tandy liked doing the Director's dirty work. He liked his position of power. With IMPSEC behind him, he could commit any crime, no matter how base, without fear of retribution, so why should he run.

  "Tell me your lies then.” Penn said at last. General Tandy cleared his suddenly dry throat, sounding as if he had something stuck there.

  ”There is a planet we wish to investigate, Sigma Alpha Prime. So far we haven't been able.” To Penn's ear, the General's voice held an odd note, one he was trying to conceal behind his nervousness.

  "You want me to infiltrate another unsuspecting planet, and set them up for an invasion, right?” Penn growled, not bothering to try to hide the bitterness in his voice. The ghost of one million men, women, and children he'd condemned to death the first time he’d refused stood at his shoulder. 'How many more?' came unbidden to his mind.

  He'd lost count of the assassinations he'd carried out to keep the rest of humanity alive. Killing some poor unsuspecting schmuck because he'd pissed off the Director, the Emperor, or both. He'd lost count of the number of planetary presidents, commanding generals, and top officials he'd murdered to destabilize the government to aid the Empire in its conquest.

  "No, nothing like that. As far as we know the planet is uninhabited.”

  ”What aren't you telling me?"

  "A ship can land… well, crash land to be more precise, but due to some sort of
gravity anomaly can't take off again. We need to know why.” Penn felt depressed looked at the tacky green walls of the office, and said nothing, digesting the information.

  "We believe there is a device causing this effect inside an unusually large building on the surface. Your mission is to go down there, get to the building, find the controls, and turn it off. If you can't turn it off, destroy it.”

  On the surface the mission sounded simply, yet what wasn't the Tandy telling him. More importantly, why come to him with the problem. There were a lot of people in the Empire willing to do the Director's dirty work, including other human's, so why him?