The Navigator (The Apollo Stone Trilogy Book 1)

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The Navigator (The Apollo Stone Trilogy Book 1) Page 16

by P. M. Johnson


  Cap whispered, “Lena!” but she kept going. He shook his head and looked at Logan as he got into a crouch. “This just keeps getting better and better.”

  Logan smiled as Cap went by. Then he whispered, “Relax, Cap. What could possibly go wrong?”

  “Plenty,” replied Cap over his shoulder.

  The three fugitives followed Kane’s example and slipped into the river, holding their M-35s above the water. They all kept close enough to shore to stay below the river’s raised bank and out of sight of any unfriendly eyes in Williamsport. Soon, they reached the base of the bridge. Kane climbed up the embankment and quickly walked to one of the supporting pillars. He slung his rifle over his shoulder and looked up. He grabbed the lowest rung of a ladder embedded in the concrete pillar and started to climb.

  Logan paused to look at the bridge column which rose about fifteen meters above the riverbank. Kane was already half way up the pillar. He wasn’t sure what Kane hoped to accomplish by climbing up to the bridge, but he figured the man had gotten them this far and seemed to know the area. That made Kane their best hope for getting through this alive.

  He followed Lena and Cap as they climbed up the riverbank. They swiftly and quietly glided to the bridge’s first pillar. Lena quickly ascended the ladder to join Kane above. Even with a pack on her back and a gun slung over her shoulder, Lena moved with surprising agility and ease. Cap went next and Logan followed.

  When he reached the top, Logan began to understand Kane’s plan. There was a gangplank under the bridge road, probably used for maintenance purposes. The gangplank ran the length of the bridge about two meters below the surface. Kane cautioned them to move as silently as possible and started to traverse the expanse. They had taken about twenty steps when they heard something and stopped.

  Logan turned his ear toward the town, but didn’t dare turn completely around. He thought he could hear voices coming from one of the houses near the head of the bridge. He heard a woman’s voice laughing, followed by man’s voice saying, “Shhh!” The woman giggled, then a door slammed shut.

  After waiting a few moments without hearing anything more, the four continued to walk along the gangplank. When they reached the other side, Kane didn’t climb down. Instead, he led them up to the bridge’s surface using a narrow hanging ladder. Kane reached the road and looked along the length of the bridge. He turned to the others and motioned for them to follow. Lena was watching from the top of the ladder when Kane gave the signal. She climbed the rest of the way up, and Cap and Logan followed. They quickly dashed for the tree line, but as they ran there was a sudden crashing sound emanating from the town. Logan instinctively broke to the right toward a nearby cluster of trees.

  When he got into the trees, Logan stopped and leaned against a tree trunk, intently listening for more sounds from Williamsport, but all was silent. Relieved, he walked deeper into the forest at an angle he hoped would intersect with the others’ path. As he adjusted the shoulder straps of his pack, he noticed something out of the corner of his eye. He turned his head to see an SPD officer standing just a couple meters away.

  Shit!

  The SPD officer looked at Logan and froze as though he was seeing an apparition. Neither man moved. Then the officer reached for his sidearm. Logan quickly reached over his shoulder and pulled out his sword. He lunged forward and drove the blade through the SPD officer’s stomach. The man looked with disbelief at the sword projecting from his body. He tried to raise his pistol, but Logan drove his blade in deeper causing him to drop the gun. The officer fell to his knees and collapsed to the ground.

  Cap came running from deeper in the forest. “Are you okay?”

  He looked at the body and then at Logan, who stood as if frozen, his mouth slightly open. “You did what you had to do,” he said. “Now let’s get out of here.”

  Kane appeared, sword in hand, and quickly assessed the situation. Pulling the sword out of the body and handing it to Logan, he said, “Hide the body in that thicket and keep your eyes open. Where there’s one, there’s another. They rarely work alone.”

  Logan tried to comply but couldn’t move. His mind was still adjusting to what he had just done. He’d killed a man. True, it was a man who had wanted to kill him, but that didn’t lessen the magnitude of what had occurred. The thought flashed across his mind that he’d taken away everything the man was. Husband, father, brother, son. It was all over for him. One minute he’s taking a piss in the woods and the next he’s worm food. He looked at the sword in his hand as though for the first time.

  Seeing Logan wasn’t moving, Kane and Cap took the SPD officer’s body by the arms and legs and carried it to an area of thick underbrush. They placed the body in the middle.

  “Let’s go,” said Kane as he walked by Logan. “You did it and now it’s done. He’s dead and you’re alive. Now get your head straight and let’s go.”

  Logan nodded. “Yea, yeah,” he said, more to himself than Kane. He used a large leaf to clean his blade of the SPD officer’s blood. He eased the sword back into its makeshift sheath on the side of his backpack, then trotted after Kane.

  Cap and Lena looked at each other for a moment. Cap was about to say something but Lena turned and trotted after Logan. Cap stood alone in the darkness watching Lena’s back as she disappeared into the shadows. He looked in the direction of the bushes where they’d hastily hidden the body. Cursing under his breath, he took off after the others.

  They jogged along a twisting trail for the next forty-five minutes before slowing down to a walk near a small clearing. Then Kane stopped and the others gathered around him. “Okay, those lights ahead are Deep Pool,” he said. “We made good time since crossing the bridge. I had planned to rest before meeting Ravenwood, but we need to move fast. That means you’ll be pushing on tonight and maybe through tomorrow, so be prepared.”

  He continued along the trail with the others close behind. When they reached the outskirts of the town, he turned left and led them along the edge of the tree line, but always staying in the shadows. Through the trees they could see a cluster of about fifty houses; most were dark, but as they walked around the perimeter of the town, they saw a dimly lit white stucco building. They could hear the muffled sound of music coming from within its walls.

  “This way,” said Kane. “Lay down your packs, bracers, and weapons in these boxwood bushes.”

  They followed his instructions and he covered the equipment with additional branches. Then he walked toward the building, looking from side to side as he went. He stepped into the faint light of a small lamp mounted on the building and waved for them to follow. They quickly walked from the tree line to Kane, who was standing next to a door. He pulled it open and they entered.

  Once inside, Cap’s eyes widened. He grinned with delight. “I hoped this was what it sounded like.”

  He looked around the large dimly lit tavern they’d entered. A heavyset older woman stood behind a bar pouring beer for a few rough-looking patrons. About thirty people were gathered in front of a small stage watching a band play, dancing in time to the music. There were booths along the wall and tables in the middle of the room along the edge of the dancefloor. Three or four waitresses moved from table to table delivering food and drinks.

  Cap patted his pockets and looked at Logan. “Lively place, don’t you think? Do you have some money by any chance?” he asked.

  Logan shook his head. “I left home rather unexpectedly and forgot to bring my wallet.”

  Cap looked at Lena, who shook her head. “Even if I did, I wouldn’t waste it on beer.”

  “I’m not asking you to waste it on beer,” replied Cap. “I’m asking you to give it to me so I can waste it on beer.”

  He looked at Kane. “What about you? Spare a few shekels for a thirsty Traveler?”

  Kane ignored the question as he slowly turned his head, scanning the room. He stopped when he saw a particular booth. He looked at Logan and nodded toward the booth.

  “This way,”
said Kane.

  As they walked across the tavern floor, Logan looked at the band on stage. They were in their mid-twenties and wore tattered dirty work pants and t-shirts. Two women played electric guitars. There was a man playing the bass and another on the drums. A long-haired man was bobbing his head in time with the driving blues groove and heavy guitar riffs. He approached the mike stand and began to sing.

  Well, I saw that girl,

  Comin’ down the street.

  Don’t move so fast,

  I ain’t got no gas.

  She looked at me

  And shook her head.

  “You got nothin’ to show

  So you can just go.”

  I said, “Pleeeeasse baby.”

  I said, “Pleeeeasse baby.”

  She shook her head.

  And she shook her hands.

  She shook her hips.

  But not for me.

  No, no, not for me.

  The man in the corner booth stood when they approached. He was a tall, barrel-chested man with closely cropped gray hair, a square jaw and a rather large wide nose. Logan noted his large hands and thick fingers. To Logan he appeared to be a simple laborer or farmer, but there was something in his eyes that contrasted sharply with his plain, rough exterior. They shone with intelligence and something else, which Logan could only describe as cheerfulness.

  Kane smiled as he took the other man’s extended hand in his own and then embraced him. “Good to see you,” he said to the man.

  “And you,” replied the man in a strong but raspy voice. “I see you’ve brought some guests with you. Welcome to Deep Pool.”

  “You must be Ravenwood,” said Lena.

  “I am. And you must be Lena, Logan, and Cap,” he said with a smile as he sat down in the booth. He gestured for the others to do the same. All accepted the invitation except for Kane, who leaned close to Ravenwood and whispered something in his ear. Ravenwood nodded.

  Kane looked at the three young friends and said, “I’m leaving you for a while, but we will meet again. Ravenwood will get you where you need to go.” He smiled and turned toward the door.

  “Where is he going?” Logan asked Ravenwood when Kane had left.

  “He is returning to Williamsport to distract your pursuers.”

  Logan thought of the dead SPD officer they had left behind. “What if they catch him?” Logan asked Ravenwood.

  The big man smiled and chuckled. “Red Legs and SPD thugs have no chance whatsoever of catching Kane. He’s more at home in the woods than the cleverest fox. And besides, he will not be alone. Others will help.”

  “The Travelers,” said Lena.

  “Yes,” replied Ravenwood, smiling at Lena. “The Travelers will help throw the dogs off the scent. Travelers have always disliked the SPD, visa inspectors in particular, but they have recently developed a visceral hatred for Red Legs. Republican Special Forces units have been stationed in the region for the past year or so and have caused nothing but misery for the Traveler community. Part of a stepped-up enforcement effort, it would seem.”

  “What do the Red Legs do to them that make the Travelers hate them?” asked Lena.

  Ravenwood frowned and said, “Red Leg tactics are harsh. More than a few Travelers have died while in custody.”

  “What do you mean they died in custody? What happens to them?” asked Lena. Something in her voice told Logan she wanted to know the answer but was afraid of what she might hear.

  “It’s usually some variation of ‘shot while trying to escape,’” Ravenwood answered. He looked from face to face and continued. “As I said, Travelers’ already difficult lives have changed for the worse. SPD visa inspectors are usually satisfied with throwing Travelers in a cell for a few days and transporting them to the nearest farm or production development from which the Travelers could usually escape without much effort.”

  Ravenwood fixed his gaze on Lena. “But Red Legs are different. They don’t like being policemen. It’s not what they’re trained for. They’re soldiers, and not just ordinary soldiers. They’re shock troops, trained to take on the toughest missions, to kill as many of the enemy as possible by any means possible.”

  “So why are they stationed here?” asked Logan. “Ever since the days of Malcom Weller, it’s been forbidden for the Republican Special Forces to operate inside the country’s borders. They should be on the western frontier or south along the Smokey Mountains.”

  “Red Legs are in those places as well, but the Guardians need them in the interior now,” replied Ravenwood.

  “Is the SPD losing control?” asked Cap. “Why do they need the RSF to help?”

  Ravenwood slowly rubbed his large hands together and then laced his fingers. “My guess is that there is conflict among the Guardians. Guardian Bishop is the Justice Minister and therefore has jurisdiction over national law enforcement. He uses his SPD to enforce the Uniform Code of Justice, root out so-called undedicated elements of society, and conduct counter-espionage operations. Guardian Castell is Defense Minister and therefore has authority over the military, including the Republican Guard to which the Red Legs belong. I believe Bishop and Castell are encroaching on each other’s jurisdictions, trying to position themselves to be the next Grand Guardian when Harken dies.

  “Why now? Is Harken sick?” asked Cap, a bit suspiciously.

  “Many believe old age is taking its toll on him,” said Ravenwood with a shrug. “He’s seventy-five, after all. No one lives forever, and there has never been a peaceful transition of power in the PRA. Seizing control and silencing your competitors is the traditional path to power.”

  “How do you know all of this?” asked Cap, not trying to hide his doubts. “Internal rivalries between Guardians aren’t the kind of thing that’s reported in the news.”

  Ravenwood sat back and smiled. “I know because I talk to people and I listen to what they say. But there is someone here who probably knows more than any of us about the inner workings of the Guardian Council. Wouldn’t you agree, Lena?”

  She narrowed her eyes and asked, “Why do you think that?”

  “Because your father is the Defense Minister, Guardian Castell,” answered Ravenwood.

  Logan and Cap looked at her, stunned. She ignored them and leveled a cold stare at Ravenwood.

  “I understand why you created your false identity of Lena Moreau,” continued Ravenwood. “You didn’t want people at the academy to treat you differently. And your father no doubt saw some advantages in allowing you to mask your identity. But your secret life has become difficult to maintain, and it is no longer necessary.”

  “So maybe the massive manhunt isn’t really for Logan,” said Cap, breaking the silence which followed. “Maybe they’re looking for Lena.”

  “They’re looking for all of you,” said Ravenwood. “They need to find Lena because of who she is, and they need to find Logan because of what he has.”

  He looked at Logan and held out his hand. “May I see it?”

  Logan hesitated and looked into the intense but reassuring eyes of the big man. Then he reached into his coat pocket and pulled out the sphere. He put it in Ravenwood’s outstretched hand. “Do you know what it is?” Logan asked.

  Ravenwood raised and lowered the sphere a few times, gauging its heft. He smiled at Logan but didn’t answer his question. Then he said, “Not too heavy, eh? But it’s cold.”

  “I think there’s some kind of cooling system inside the sphere,” said Logan. “But I don’t know why it would need to be kept cold. I don’t know what the sphere is for.”

  “No, I’m not surprised,” said Ravenwood as he rolled the sphere in the palm of his hand. He reflected for a moment and then asked nonchalantly, “I don’t suppose you have another unusual object, do you? Perhaps something your grandfather gave to you.”

  Logan was a little surprised by the question, though in retrospect he knew he should have anticipated it. He reached into his pants pocket and retrieved the medallion. He placed
it on the table with the image of Apollo’s chariot facing up. Ravenwood held the sphere in his right hand and picked up the medallion in his left.

  “This way, please,” he said as he stood up.

  They followed him toward the tavern’s back door, but instead of exiting Ravenwood gave a slight nod to the woman behind the bar. She opened a nearby door, which was concealed as a panel. Ravenwood led the group down a short flight of stairs to a stone-walled cellar. The room was empty except for some packing crates stacked along the walls. Ravenwood walked to the far corner and turned up a kerosene lamp that was hanging from the ceiling. When the others had gathered around him, he produced the sphere and medallion and set them on a stack of crates.

  “Dr. Chambers was a very clever man,” he said with a nod of his head. “Some called him a genius. But it was not his intelligence alone which vaulted him to the top of his profession. He could also point to innovation after innovation as proof of his superior mind. You are probably familiar with the antiballistic shield, for example. Elite fighting forces have been using them for at least twenty years now, and you have Chambers to thank for that.”

  Logan said, “An SPD colonel we recently met said he was talented at adapting advanced technology to practical uses. What advanced technology? What did he adapt it from?”

  Ravenwood smiled. “You’ve been traveling in dangerous circles,” he said with a wink. “But it’s a good question. Sometimes it was pre-Impact technology. Early twenty-first century Earth society had achieved some considerable breakthroughs, particularly in computers and communications. Chambers researched and reintroduced many of these achievements. His work led to the PDD, advances in wireless communications, and more. But other technology he adapted was far more advanced than that of pre-Impact Earth.”

  “What do you mean, more advanced than pre-Impact Earth?” asked Cap.

  Ravenwood took a deep breath and looked at Cap. Then he said, “Cap, I’m told you’re a gifted pilot. What if someone came to you and offered you a way of improving the performance of your aircraft not by a factor of two, but of two hundred? Imagine also that the person who is offering this to you does not want anything in return except for you to assist him to get home. That would be a tempting offer, wouldn’t it?”

 

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