Fractured Prophecy

by P J McDermott

  As she cooled down, the sheer audacity of what she’d done caused her hands to shake. She was about to go against her life’s training, betray the code that had been her guide since she’d joined the Corps as a cadet twelve years ago. Why did I say that to him? It was stupid. I was stupid, behaving like a spoiled brat. What made me think I could impose my will on the Admiral, refuse a direct order from Angela Merrik of all people?

  She couldn’t figure out the Politburo’s interest in the mission, nor why the Admiral was taking orders from them. The Intragalactic Agency represented a dozen federated planets. Earth was one voice in its oversight committee. The Admiral, as Earth’s representative and Chief of Security for the Galactic Alliance, had always been given a free hand in operational matters.

  Her heart leaped into her mouth. The oversight committee doesn’t know. Earth is acting unilaterally! She sat bolt upright. What other reason could explain their behavior? Earth’s government wanted the Sword for themselves. She reviewed what she knew of the Politburo. The committee comprised seven members, each appointed by and accountable to the World President himself. Their public mandate was to maintain order on Earth and to ensure the sovereignty and security of the planet’s inhabitants. The chairperson, Angela Merrik, had recently established a new police unit called the City Patrol aimed at stamping out “undesirable elements” whose aim was to destabilize the government.

  Hickory recalled the incident outside her grandmother’s apartment. The police had pursued a bunch of kids along the street below. One boy threw a stone at them, and without warning, a peace officer had drawn his pistol and shot him. The men involved had worn the black and red colors of the City Patrol.

  Ridiculous. These sort of things don’t happen. Not in the modern era, not after everything Earth has been through. It seemed almost impossible one person could have so much influence as to control the entire planet. But history told her she was wrong. Is Merrik acting on her own? Could the President be involved? From the slim evidence provided by the Admiral and extrapolated by herself, someone wanted to broaden his or her influence over the federated planets. The President and his supporters had been muttering platitudes for months about the need for unity, for one voice to represent all the federations.

  It would be an incredible demonstration of power if that person were able to use the Sword of Connat to destroy the Bikashi empire.

  Her grandmother had been right on the mark. Loss of individual freedom was a hallmark of a government on the road to totalitarian rule.

  Something needed to be done. If there was a conspiracy, it should be exposed. Somebody should do something. The scope of such an undertaking was staggering, frightening even. A person like her would soon find themselves hamstrung by the Politburo. But the right person with the sword might achieve much. Was there anyone strong enough to stand up to Merrik?

  She decided she would play her role, whatever it might be and wherever it might lead. The first step was precisely as she’d told the Admiral; rescue the Lakedwellers and steal the sword.

  #

  Bikashi troops poured from the personnel carrier and came to attention in an impressive show of discipline. Instead of the full body armor Hickory was used to seeing them in, these troops wore a light polyethylene jacket and helmet, with soft leather leggings. Ishnu stood in the village center, head bowed, and shoulders hunched. He glanced up at the squad leader and affected a pleased expression. He spoke in the hybrid language both species of humanoid had come to understand over the centuries. “Master, you are early, are you not? Have we not filled this quarter’s quota three weeks ago?”

  The commander’s face did not have the zygomaticus muscles to enable him to smile. Instead, he emitted a harsh bark that served as a laugh. “We will take what we need when we need it, headman, but first I want to examine any newborn and all aged over forty years as is our custom.”

  Hickory, Jess, and Gareth, along with the other citizens of Dur Untash watched the rough handling of the tribe’s modest possessions, a baby’s cradle tossed into the street, valued pottery smashed to the ground, a wooden chair broken, bedcovers and clothes left in the dust. It was almost too much to bear. When the soldiers hauled out three older men earmarked for termination, it was all Hickory could do to hold Gareth from a suicidal attempt to intervene. Gareth, listen to me. We cannot help these unfortunates, but perhaps we can help the rest. Our plan won’t work if you draw attention to us. Close your eyes and think of Kar and how he helped you overcome your trauma. She saw Gareth wrestling with his instinct to throw himself at the species who had tortured him. Slowly, the fire left his eyes, and his shoulders slumped. A single tear trickled down his cheek as the Bikashi took the innocents away.

  The Bikashi captain strode down the line, checking teeth, eyes and general health and fitness, selecting those he deemed appropriate to serve in the Warlord’s palace.

  Don’t look him in the eyes, warned Hickory. Remember you’re a pathetic member of a downtrodden inferior race. One sign of insolence or resistance means we won’t be chosen, and perhaps worse will befall these people and ourselves.

  When the leader came to Hickory, he grabbed her chin to examine her face. “This one,” he said and moved on to Jess. “And this one. These two will serve as chambermaids for the overlord’s mistress.” Two Bikashi soldiers took Hickory and Jess by the arm and led them back to the column.

  Gareth stood woodenly, his eyes downcast, as the captain examined his face from beneath hooded eyes. “Ishnu,” he called. “Who is this one—I do not recall seeing him last month. He has a prideful look about him.”

  Ishnu’s face shone with sweat. He kept his eyes trained on the feet of the Bikashi as he answered, “Master, this is my cousin’s boy. He has just returned from the desert where he took the ritual tests of manhood to admit him as an elder of the tribe. Forgive his arrogance, it will soon disappear.”

  The captain forced open Gareth’s mouth to examine the condition of his teeth.

  Gareth! warned Hickory.

  Just as well I didn’t have the hole in my molar filled. Gareth signaled back. Don’t worry, Cap. I’m just a downtrodden villager.

  “This one will do well serving at my lord’s table.”

  #

  The chosen were loaded into the hovercraft carrier to sit at the rear behind the troops. They wore no restraints, which did not surprise Hickory. I guess they figure we’re the lucky ones to escape the life of a villager. Why would we want to go back and what would be the point anyway? We’d be recaptured before we’d gone a hundred yards. With quality slaves at a premium, they probably wouldn’t even beat us too much.

  As Hickory had directed, Anyar followed them at a distance carrying her food and water in a bag over her shoulder. Are you nearby, Anyar? I cannot see you.

  <> She popped her head over the top then ducked quickly out of sight again.

  Hickory stifled a laugh. Keep your head down, but talk to me, so I know you are near.

  After an hour’s travel, the city of Kaffur appeared on the horizon like a medieval dragon nesting in a pink haze.

  <>

  Ishnu told me the Yatzi are in a compound on the ground level inside the main gates to the city. You must stay outside the walls until it’s dark. I will find a way to speak with you then.

  #

  Earlier, Ishnu had told them most Bikashi lived underground. He’d sketched a plan of Kaffur in the sand, explaining, “I meet my son every Tuesday when his master sends him to collect the fresh fish for his table. He tells me about his life in the city. There are three levels above ground. The Warlord’s stronghold lies on top, above the most important government sectors headed up by each of the four Directorates. The city’s security forces take up fully one-third of the available space; the next largest, so I am told, is Jolphyr’s command.”

  Hickory transmi
tted to Jess and Gareth via her SIM. These are the science and engineering laboratories according to Sikona. The remaining space on the second level is shared by administration and utility supply.

  Ishnu continued. “Next is the living quarters of the high command and their families. Immediately below ground are two levels that are always locked. My people say the Bikashi keep savage beasts that growl continuously there.” He raised one hand with the index finger and thumb joined and shook it. Hickory’s SIM translated the gesture as a shrug. “It seems strange and I do not understand why. The captain who comes here told me they are needed for the planet to survive.”

  “Probably the power systems for the city and the force field protecting Auriga,” said Gareth.

  “I do not know the number of levels below ground, but there are several.”

  Gareth traced his finger between two lines drawn by Ishnu on the sand map. “And this looks like a central corridor traversing the structure from bottom to top. Is this how they move from level to level?”

  “Yes, they call it a travelator according to Aslexis. If you stand on it, it will take you to whichever level or department you wish.” He paused, shaking his head. “One of the many mysteries in the Bikashi city.” He ran his finger in a circle round the sand map of the citadel and dabbed his thumb making short lines radiating outwards. “Many roadways lead through the exterior walls to different parts of Auriga. These are used to transport goods or troops.”

  Jess’s eyebrows rose. “Looks a very complex structure. How are we ever going to find our way around? It’s like a bee-hive.”

  “My son, Aslexis, and others have been told of your coming. They will help in any way they can.”

  “What about the Yatzi prisoners?” said Hickory.

  “They are held between the citadel and the outside walls in compounds exposed to the smog expelled by the city. They are watched over by guards whose task it is to keep the compounds clean and provide food to the Yatzi.”

  “What work do the prisoners do?” Jess asked. “Is it all forced labor?”

  Ishnu sat back and sighed. “Of course. None would take on such work willingly. The Yatzi represent a pool of workers that can be used by any in the administration and the Bikashi officer class. They carry out simple tasks. If a Directorate’s wife wants to plant some new flower beds, she will call for half a dozen Yatzi to do the digging. If a drug maker needs to test out a new drug, he’ll call for twenty Yatzi, or he might need a burial detail for a failed experiment. A general might commandeer a dozen for latrine duty or to clean out his stables.”

  When Hickory passed this information on to Anyar, she’d bared her teeth. <>

  Ishnu stumbled over his words. “I do not mean to offend. The Yatzi are considered a low-security risk by the Bikashi. Where would they run to if they escaped? They live and die here, some raise their families here.”

  Hickory thought Anyar too young to comprehend the lengths some would go to, simply to survive. It would be too much of a shock for her to see her people living in slavery. Anyar, you must prepare yourself for the worst. Your people are prisoners and live in the harshest of circumstances. They have been treated pitifully.

  <>

  Thoughts of Gareth’s torture at the hands of Vogel flitted through Hickory’s mind. It had driven him insane for a while. With time, even the bravest amongst us will crumble if the right pressure is applied. I know this to be true.

  <>

  You will need to display more than strong hands, my friend. You will need courage and steadfastness.

  Anyar hesitated, thinking deeply before she replied. <>

  Hickory looked at her friend, her eyes glowing with pride. She became aware that Ishnu was speaking. “Left and right of the Yatzi compounds are where the disgraced live. But you won’t see any. They don’t mix with other Bikashi and keep themselves hidden. I have heard it said many starve themselves to death because of their shame.”

  #

  Hickory glanced at the Yatzi compound as the troop-carrier passed through the city walls at ground level. Those prisoners who hadn’t been selected for work duty were either pacing the extremity of the compound or sitting listlessly alone.

  Four guards sat around a table, drinking and conversing in loud voices. They stood to attention as the hover-carrier flew past them. Hickory tuned into smatterings of telepathic thought from some of the younger creatures. Do you hear them, Anyar? The discussions were varied, but all contained elements of pathos, of regret, of missing loved ones. A few found solace in being united with brothers, sisters, and mates, captured in later purges. Most of the thoughts, though, were incoherent ramblings.

  Anyar’s response, <> was brief and tinged with grief and anger.

  My friend, remember your people are desperate for someone to lead them. They do not stay here by choice. Bide your time, stay hidden, and maintain your fortitude.

  <>

  #

  A squad of Bikashi escorted them up the travelator to the second level and into a vacant room with a wooden dais in its center. The ceiling stretched high overhead supported by stone columns resting on a black marble floor. An assortment of colorful banners, standards, and pennants projected from each pillar. Ideas, anyone?

  Don’t understand the words but some of the designs look like coats of arms. Jess examined the nearest.

  Don’t look too interested, said Hickory.

  A light-framed human dressed in slacks and white shirt and wearing a sash over his shoulder entered and clapped his hands twice. “Citizens of Dur Untash, I welcome you to Kaffur. My name is Jesque, master of servants, and chief trainer for the central committee members. It is my role to equip you to serve our masters in the manner they demand. Your duties will not be onerous, and I hope you will apply yourselves to your assigned tasks. If you fail to reach the required standard in the time allowed, it will be my responsibility to discipline you. If you incur the displeasure of your master in any way, then I will discipline you. If you commit two infractions, you will be sent to live among the Scarg. In that place, you will spend a very unpleasant and short existence, I can assure you.”

  Wow! Great welcome. Gareth’s mouth hung open.

  Jesque continued, “If you serve your master well, you will be provided with food and shelter. Some…” He paused, staring at Gareth.

  Close your mouth, for God’s sake, Hickory said.

  “Some Mitanni serve for ten years before their master replaces them. I myself have been here twelve years.” His pride was clear. Then his eyebrows knitted together, and he glared at them. “But never question the reason you live. It is to serve your master. Get that ingrained into your mind, into your very soul, repeat it to yourself every day, and perhaps you will last out the year.

  “First, though, I will assign you to your houses. Line up on the dais.” He signaled half-a-dozen Mitanni men waiting in the wings to enter. Jesque introduced them briefly by name and function. When the final Lakedweller approached, Jesque offered some additional advice. “This is Vaques, he is the head steward of Trangantula, the royal house of Bikashi. Know if you are picked to serve in the palace, there are no second chances. Vaques holds your life in his hands. Cross him at your peril.”

  Sound advice. Vaques looks a bad dude, said Gareth.

  I agree. Jesque may be the head coordinator, but Vaques holds the power in the palace. We’ll need to get on his good side, either that or silence him. There was a cruel glint in Vaques’ eyes that unnerved Hickory. This guy is trouble. Step carefully around him.

  Vaques walked
the line, examining each in turn. “The Warlord of Auriga does not tolerate any sign of weakness in those who serve him.” He paused in front of Gareth. “What is your name?”

  Gareth bowed. “Shanshi-Adad, son of Kanesh.”

  Vaques’ eyes flared, and he punched Gareth in the abdomen. Spittle flew from his mouth. “Son of Kanesh, master! When I ask a question, you must call me Master Vaques.”

  Gareth unwound. “Yes, Master Vaques.”

  “A quick learner. You may do well. Put this on your arm.” He handed Gareth a blue armband with a black triangle embroidered on it, then continued his inspection. He stopped in front of a young girl who had barely reached puberty and handed her an armband. When he came to Hickory and Jess, he looked upward into their faces. He tapped Jess on the shoulder. “This one is too old. Mark her for the Science block. She may still serve as a test subject.” Jess looked him in the eye.

  Wait, said Hickory. This may be another test.

  “As you command, Master Vaques.” Jess’s voice was stoic.

  Vaques smirked, then handed her a blue armband. He turned away. “These two will do.” He passed the remaining bands to Hickory and the boy standing next to her, then strode to the door. “Follow me.”

  CHAPTER 17

  Sabrina

  Where are you? asked Hickory.

  Gareth’s response held a hint of excitement. Vaques is taking me to the head chef. Apparently, I’m to be trained to wait tables during official meetings between the Directorates and Kabutai. Sounds like they happen every other day. I’ll get back to you when I know more.