Imperium: Revelation: Book Two in the Imperium Trilogy

by Paul M Calvert

  On arriving back at the Palace, Karen found she had been allocated a new suite of rooms in the Imperial suite, with adjoining doors to Adams. Her apartments were large and airy, with fantastic views across the valley and out to sea. She spent some time walking through the rooms, Vimes explaining how everything worked and Christine was delighted to discover he had somehow managed to download the entirety of Earth music and cinema into her room’s entertainment system so she wouldn’t feel too isolated from her previous life.

  After a quiet dinner spent alone with Adam, she’d sat with him, asking more questions about his parents and was surprised to learn about the rift between them in recent years. In turn, she had explained about the untimely death of her mother and the rift with her own father, but here in the arms of the man she loved, that part of her life didn’t seem so important anymore. Their talk had gone on long into the evening, both realising that their time together here would be short before he would be called away to join with his father in putting down the rebellion.

  Adam hadn’t left her in the morning, instead, they’d taken an enjoyable shower together and he escorted her to meet up with his mother in the Refectory. To Karen’s surprise, they’d had breakfast with a dozen household staff, one of whom she had recognised as the woman from the gardens who she had seen out walking her dog in the companionship of a strikingly handsome man. Karen had sat next to her and soon found out about how the young woman’s father was on Dauntless with the Emperor’s bodyguard and her worries for his safety. Knowing this, Karen asked Vimes to confirm if the woman’s father was safe, only for him to warn her not to say anything and she had felt surprisingly guilty at not being able to reassure the young woman, called Rebecca, that everything would be OK and her father was safe.

  Finally, Karen found herself here, apparently many miles below the planet's surface in an ultra-secure complex. Apart from Christine and Adam, no humans could be seen although a number of android servitors were dotted around the vast hanger bay in which they waited but she could sense anticipation coming from both mother and son.

  Alex took her hand and squeezed it. “Any moment now,” he said, looking down and kissing the top of her head, turning away to look across the hanger. Not knowing what to look for or expect, Karen waited patiently, only to jump in surprise as the space in front of her was suddenly filled by a large yacht, its appearance buffeting her with a wave of air pushed out of the way as it emerged from the Jump. A walkway grew from its front quarter, sloping down to the ground. Even before it had completely formed, Christine ran forward, reaching the bottom just as a doorway appeared in the yacht’s side and a tall figure appeared, his face partially obscured by backlighting from inside the ship. The figure rushed forward and they met halfway up the ramp, hugging and holding each other tight.

  Karen and Adam moved forward slowly, both wishing to give his parents a few moments together before intruding. She leant over and spoke quietly to Adam.

  “That’s your father, I take it, not the window cleaner,” Karen joked, not sure what to say and trying to lighten the moment. She knew Adam was unsure how this meeting between him and his father would go and although he hadn’t said as much, his body language spoke volumes to her.

  Adam looked confused at her comment and was about to say something, but Karen interrupted him, “It’s a joke, Adam but obviously not a funny one. Sorry.”

  “Ah,” he replied, after Vimes explained, “yes, it is my father. Emperor Alexander himself. In the flesh. I’m not looking forward to this, Karen, after all, he was the one that sent me away to fend for myself.”

  Karen stopped walking, forcing Adam to do the same. “Would you have preferred he hadn’t, bearing in mind we would never have met?” she asked him, a slight edge in her tone which he immediately picked up on.

  Adam pulled her close, feeling a slight resistance that soon passed when he said, “Well when you put it like that there’s no contest, is there?”

  “That’s more like it, Adam. For goodness sake, he’s your father and from what Christine explained, what he did what was for the good of both you and the Empire. If he’s anything like you and Christine he’s obviously a decent person, so lighten up.”

  Christine stood still, watching as Alexander walked down the ramp towards his son. Karen did the same, wanting to let the two of them work out whatever problems they had with each other before being introduced. The two men, so alike in height and build, met and faced each other, both looking unsure what to do next, until Karen, frustrated by how silly men could be at times, called out, “Oh for goodness sake, give him a hug.”

  Both men looked at her, not knowing who she was talking to, then back to each other, before embracing, holding each other surprisingly hard.

  “I missed you, son.”

  “I missed you too, Dad.”

  For now, there was nothing more either of them needed to say and they were joined by the two women who looked on approvingly as the two men held each other. It had been far too long for both of them. Adam pulled away first, motioning to Karen. “Dad, this is Karen, from Earth. She’s my partner and the one that helped me.”

  Alexander moved forward, extending his hand and shaking hers for a moment before pulling back. “Hug?” he asked with a smile, opening his arms.

  “My, you are the forward one, aren’t you?” she told him, stepping forward and obliging with a quick squeeze. She noticed how much father and son resembled each other, even smelling the same. A part of her mind suddenly realised she no longer noticed any temperature difference between herself and these humans and decided it must be down to her newly enhanced metabolism.

  Alexander looked at Karen appraisingly, liking what he saw. Christine and Vimes had already relayed everything he needed to know about her and he was reassured his son had gained at least something from his short spell on Earth.

  “Welcome to Capital and the Empire, Karen Mcleod,” he said with a smile, “although I think your sense of timing leaves a lot to be desired, given the circumstances we find ourselves in. Rest assured, we will endeavour to keep you safe. When time permits, I look forward to hearing your stories of Earth as for obvious reasons I am quite fond of the place.” He looked over to his wife and smiled warmly.

  Christine took this as her cue, slipping her arm into Alexanders and winking at her son. “Alexander, the Captains and personnel you requested are either ready or on their way here and the heavy cruiser Thunderchild is in low orbit, awaiting transports.”

  Alexander nodded, “Good, by the time we get Thunderchild and the new crews to Arisia, every traitor will have finally declared themselves and be out in the open.” He checked timings with Vimes, then extended his arms, bringing everyone into his embrace. “We’ve enough time for a family dinner together before I need to get back and you, Karen, will be our guest of honour.”

  Scene 17, 28th May 1940, Dunkirk

  “So all I have to do is get over to the bridge, climb down the bank and pick up the wires, then bring them back here without getting myself shot?” Alexander asked one of the soldiers, wondering why the hell he’d volunteered and if was too late to back out.

  “Yeah, you said you was a quick learner. Me and the boys will provide what covering fire we can to keep the Jerries ‘eads down. Now, do you want a couple of grenades or a rifle?”

  Alexander shook his head, not trusting the grenade’s primitive fusing system which had been explained to him earlier nor wanting a bulky projectile weapon when he had a smaller and much better one of his own. Overhead, one of the two sensor drones had begun showing him an approaching column of German tanks that had taken up position two miles away and he knew it was only a matter of time before they would proceed to this position and start shelling the defenders before crossing, at which point the defenders would have to retreat, surrender or be killed. Waiting for darkness before retrieving the detonator wires might improve his chances but the tanks would have arrived before then, so he just had to get a move on and rely on the prot
ection from the impact shirt beneath his outer clothes.

  He used the second drone to pinpoint where the Germans lining the other bank were positioned. With this information, he was hoping to choose a path that would keep him hidden from them for the longest time. Once the Germans worked out what he was doing, “all hell will break loose,” as one of the British had remarked to him earlier, so he had only one chance to save the day. He turned to the small group of soldiers watching him prepare, all of them glad it wasn’t them having to go after the wires.

  Alexander spoke to the soldiers near him. “Wait until the Germans see me and start firing before opening up on them as I don’t want to draw any more attention than I have to. Understand?”

  The men nodded and went off to take up their firing positions while Alexander made his way down to the treeline. He glanced to his left and right, making make sure no-one was looking, then formed his helmet and covered it with the hood from the impact shirt. He pulled his small survival sidearm and linked it’s targeting into the closest drone, enabling him to fire with the minimum time delay and maximum accuracy. He accelerated his breathing and with Vimes help, began to super-oxygenate his blood and pump adrenaline into his system. Almost immediately, he felt his stomach begin to flutter, signalling his body was ready for what was to come. Steeling himself, Alexander launched himself down the canal bank towards the first bridge support, partially sliding into the water as he lost his footing on the grass, muddy from where all the British soldiers had been working earlier.

  “So far, so good,” he thought, tensing himself for the impact suit to harden at any moment. When nothing happened, he moved towards the second support, dodging behind it with relief, pleased he had made it this far without being seen.

  His good humour was short-lived as several of the Germans began firing in his direction, albeit single shots at the moment, some hitting the metal and making it ring loudly, others missing completely and throwing up mud as they zinged and snicked past. Others joined in and soon the air was buzzing with bullets, most of them not very accurate. Ahead of him, by the third and final bridge support, he could see the wires, tucked neatly into snake-like coils on the ground. Alexander made his move, dodging out the moment the British began firing back, hoping to take advantage as the Germans sought cover themselves or ducked down. Vimes was pointing out the position of those Germans whose firing was the most accurate, so he took two seconds to send several streams of accelerated flechettes from his sidearm towards them, killing two but missing the third, although it made the soldier duck for cover with a heartfelt “Scheißkerl” as the tree behind him was partially cut through in an explosion of steam as the flechettes kinetic energy boiled the wood.

  Scrabbling over the grass and mud, Alexander ducked behind the metal upright sheltering the wires and took stock of his situation. Bullets were again being fired at him from all along the opposing river bank and it was only the width of the metal beam that protected him from being hit. The mining cables were neatly coiled, but even so, Alexander took a few moments to make sure they would all easily unfurl when he made his move back with them to safety, then attached the ends securely to his belt. The last thing he needed at this point would be for one or more of the wires to snag and leave him exposed while he tried to pull it free. A bullet smacked into the mud only inches from his head, so close that his helmet transmitted its passage past his ear. Vimes identified the source so Alexander snapped his right arm around the metal girder and fired, not needing to see the target as the drone was doing all the work. The unfortunate German didn’t even have time to cry out as the flechettes vaporised his unarmoured flesh, leaving a mist of red and green to rise up from the target area, a mixture of boiled blood and forest greenery.

  Sensing a momentary lull in the firing, Alexander began scrambling back the way he had come and had almost made it back to the first metal support before being hit in the left shoulder, the force of the blow spinning him around so that he faced the incoming fire. Another took him full in the chest, knocking him back down again as the impact cloth hardened and spread the kinetic energy evenly over his body, warming slightly as it absorbed the blow. Steeling himself that sooner or later he would be hit in an unprotected place, Alexander scrambled back to his feet, painfully aware of the slapping sound made by the bullets as they sank deep into the mud around him. A quick check to make sure all the wires were still attached and he was off again, his legs pumping as he sought to climb the last few yards to the safety of the trees where his British comrades were waiting.

  “Come on, mate, come on!” came shouted words of encouragement from the trees, just as another blow took Alexander in the small of his back with a loud thwack, throwing him forward onto his face, arms outstretched. Two soldiers scrambled over to him and pulled him into the ditch in which they’d been sheltering from the bullets.

  “Is he dead?” asked one, the other trying to turn Alexander face up, but not before he’d retracted his helmet.

  “No, not yet,” came the reply from Alexander, startling the two soldiers, one of whom fell backwards onto his behind in surprise.

  “Christ almighty, I thought you were a goner for sure,” the closest soldier remarked, watching closely as, with shaking hands, Alexander removed the wires from his belt and passed them over. “Hand ‘em to the sappers, mate,” the soldier told him.

  Two soldiers, wearing slightly different uniforms and shoulder badges, crawled over bringing with them a small dark brown box with a small handle sticking from the top. The two men quickly began attaching the wires to various contacts on the box, then nodded to indicate they were ready. Alexander, his work done, used a drone to get his bearings, then crawled over to where the Sergeant lay to tell him what had happened.

  “Well done, lad,” he called out to Alexander as he approached, motioning him closer. Behind them, the sound of firing increased, together with the crump of mortar explosions, as the Germans tried to force the British to retreat away from the trees, allowing them to safely cross and try to defuse the explosives. Through his drones, Alexander was able to get a much better view of the scene than the others and saw two of the large armoured vehicles were no more than five hundred yards away from the bridge. On the lead vehicle, the main gun was traversing back and forth as the gunner searched for a target that wouldn’t endanger the bridge. Without warning it fired and a second later the high explosive shell struck, thankfully to the left of the bridge where only a few British soldiers were stationed, blowing apart several trees which toppled down, providing even more cover.

  Sergeant Streeton turned to one of his men and asked, “Is that what I think it is Corporal?” and received an affirmative nod after the man had stood up to look. “OK, blow the bridge, we can’t let any Panzers get across. It’s several miles to the next bridge so we have enough time to evacuate.”

  Thirty seconds later, the explosive charges went off, the various blasts merging into one huge explosion that shook the trees and showered everyone with leaves and other sundry debris.

  “Well, that’ll hold ‘em up for a while. Now where’s the Bren gun carriers?” Sergeant Streeton asked, as a number of soldiers came over and crowded around for instructions. Alexander smiled inside, grateful the Sergeant had recovered so quickly and pleased he’d had the presence of mind to instruct the nanites not to heal the external wound and just focus internally, otherwise the poor man would have had a lot of explaining to do. In a small way, having been able to help him had assuaged a little of the shame he still felt over his earlier inability to do anything for the other soldiers who’d been massacred at the barn.

  Now the bridge now successfully blown, and in the absence of a clear target for them to attack, Alexander watched through his drones as the Panzers moved away, along with most of the German soldiers, heading back towards the nearby town which he could see was being readied as some kind of temporary base or headquarters. It wasn’t long before the Sergeant, together with a number of soldiers, too badly wounded to w
alk, were being carried on canvas stretchers towards the roadside where a number of solid-looking, motorised vehicles sat waiting, their engines making a deep and not unpleasant rumbling sound. He looked carefully at the green, squat metal machines. They ran on metal caterpillar tracks that had gouged furrows in the soft earth. His eyes followed their path back down the road, using the muddy tracks they’d left after emerging from off road thirty or forty yards away where they had been kept hidden from sight. Sergeant Streeton was laid carefully in the one furthest away at the front, his voice still barking orders as he propped himself up against one of the metal sides, before beckoning Alexander over, gesturing for him to sit alongside.

  “These buggers aren’t comfortable, but it beats walking. A promise is a promise, lad, and I need to keep you close to avoid too many questions being asked when we get back to our lines. Just keep your mouth shut, understand what I’m saying?”

  Alexander nodded, not completely sure what he meant, but picking up from the tone that the Sergeant was looking out for him in some way. The Bren carrier underneath them lurched forward as the driver in front engaged gears, then swung round and headed off, with another lurch, towards the coast and the darkening sky. As the carrier rumbled along, weaving as it avoided bomb craters or the half burnt out vehicles that littered the road, Alexander noticed the Sergeant looking at him, the man’s sharp eye’s not missing a trick, looking from time to time at the holes in his clothes where he had been hit, but saying nothing and keeping his own counsel for the moment.

  It took half an hours drive before they began passing through checkpoints that were no more than simply overturned vehicles or hastily dug emplacements. The closer they go to the town, the louder the sound of artillery became, mixed with sirens from the screaming aircraft as they dived to deliver their cargoes of death on the helpless soldiers crammed into the town and beaches. A smell of burning ebbed and flowed as sea breezes moved the ever present smoke backwards and forwards over the area.