Glancing at T.C., he saw that she was deathly pale even in the bar's half-light. She had been a prisoner among strangers for much longer than he, and the strain would be worse on her. Kendric leaned over and spoke into her ear. "You sure you don't want to wait for me back on the ship?"
She shook her head, obviously determined to press on.
The code they'd arranged with Captain White to identify one another was to say to the bartender, "Two farreras," as though ordering a drink. The bartender, a greasy-looking individual with a perpetual squint and hands that looked as though they routinely crushed rocks, nodded and pointed out a booth close to the door.
They saw that Zannifred White was a young man, though he'd apparently been through a lot. His left eye and much of that side of his face and head, his left arm, and both legs were prosthetic devices. Most interesting to Kendric, though, were the sockets on either temple, plastic and alloy plug snaps designed to take lead prongs from a starship cyber.
"You're the ones who called me?" White asked, companionably enough. Before they could answer, the bartender had come over to ask if everything was all right, addressing White as "Sir." The freighter pilot had obviously chosen as their meeting spot a place where he had friends. White ordered some drinks that he called "Event Horizons" for the three of them and gave the man a barely perceptible nod.
"We're the ones," Kendric said. "We need passage for the three of us."
"Where to?"
" We... ah.. .have reason to believe you might call at a world called
Alba." Kendric noted the interest and sudden scrutiny in the man's one good eye at the mention of the name. "It's in a newly contacted region...the Gael Cluster..."
"I know o/it." The words were guarded, and White waited until the server had set down their drinks before saying more. "What makes you think I ever call there, though?"
Kendric wondered if perhaps he had said the wrong thing. He wasn't exactly expert at any of this. He took a sip of his drink, frowning at its sharp bite, then asked, "Does it matter that much?"
"It might," White said with a shrug, apparently willing to let the issue pass for the moment. "You got money? That's a long run to Alba. Expensive."
This was the moment Kendric had been dreading. "No...not exactly..."
"Not exactly! What do you take me for, man?" White's one good eye narrowed. "My friend, you smell to me like an Imperial navy officer. If you're trying to catch me at something, forget it. I obey the law. I honor Caesar. I love TOG..."
"What we have," Kendric continued, "is a civilian luxury shuttle that we will not be needing any longer. I'm not really sure what its market value would be here, but its sale would surely cover the cost of three passages to Alba."
"Might." White studied his own drink. "Stolen, I suppose."
"Mmm." Kendric knew it would do no good to deny that, not when a legal sale required the transfer of records to which they did not have access. "Let's say the original owner doesn't need it anymore. Have you heard what's happened on Haetai-Aleph?"
This last was a deliberate test. Kendric wanted to know whether the news of Grod had spread back to this world yet.
White's merely regarded Kendric and his companion for a moment. Then, slowly, he said, "Like I said, I love TOG and Caesar. I pay my taxes. What is it that the Navy wants with me, anyway?"
As he spoke, something about the way the man moved, something about the set of his body, drew Kendric's attention to his right hand. The first and second fingers of White's hand were crossed, one over the other, as he tapped them nervously on the table top.
Kendric heard a sound, almost a gasp, from T.C. at his right. He glanced at her and saw her eyes on White's hand.
Deftly, she touched her forefinger to the small puddle of condensation moisture near her untouched drink. She used the moisture to sketch a sign on the dark table top: a single, straight slash, then a second zigzagging sharply across to turn the symbol into a crude "R."
"We are not Imperial Navy, Citizen White," she said. "Both of us
used to be, but we're escaped slaves now. And we need your help!"
The shock of hearing T.C.'s admission nearly made Kendric choke. Had that one drink been so strong as to addle her reason? In that one bar alone, there must be dozens of men who would have willingly turned them over to the local security prefect for the reward posted on all runaway slaves. How much larger must that reward be for a pair of slaves who had stolen a luxury interplanetary shuttle?
White reached out casually, blotting out the "R" symbol with the cuff of his tunic. "I was wondering if it might be something like that," he said very quietly. "There's a rumor going around of a shuttle stolen from a villa on Aleph, but I had no idea you'd made it to Diralen."
"A rumor?" Kendric frowned. Such a rumor could have several sources—the fighter pilots who had trailed them to Haetai's rings, the guard they had knocked unconscious at Lynch's landing field, some operator of planetary approach control radar on Haetai-Aleph who had monitored their departure during the battle... .The question was, if their escape in Clovis's shuttle had been noted, why hadn't the authorities been waiting to grab them when they'd landed at Diralen's port?
White seemed to read Kendric's thoughts. "The rumor is not an official one, sir." Kendric noted White's subtle change in tone and attitude, his use of the word sir, and the special emphasis he'd attached to it. Perhaps T.C. had guessed right in confiding the truth to this man.
"You differentiate between official and unofficial rumors here?"
"Well, let's say that this one didn't come through official sources." White crossed his first and second fingers again in a quick gesture. "We have information sources on Aleph, too."
"Who is..." Kendric had been about to say "Who is we", but T.C. 's hand on his wrist carried warning. He saw the danger. T.C. had recognized in White some tie or camaraderie, and she'd answered it through the "R" symbol on the table. White must assume that he, Kendric, was part of that fraternity. A wrong word could unravel what T.C. had established, with most unpleasant results. He would have to trust her, and her intuition.
"...the owner of your ship?" Kendric said instead, finishing a bit lamely. "Can you offer us passage aboard her?"
"I am the owner, of course. And I wouldn't have agreed to talk with you if I couldn't." He paused, stroking his chin with his good hand. "It's funny, though. I've made a bunch of runs in and out of the Gael Cluster, over the last ten years, and this is the first time I've ever smuggled people in on the Road...instead of out!"
"The Renegade Legion," T.C. said as she and Kendric walked hand in hand through the Scarlet Quarter's narrow streets. She kept her voice pitched low, though it was unlikely that anyone in the crowd of walking, running, crawling, or slithering beings around them was aware at all of their presence or conversation. "We've talked about them before. Remember?"
He nodded. What she had once told him now fit with her further explanations since they'd left The Black Hole. How could he believe it all? Kendric had never quite been able to credit the stories he had heard about the Renegade Legion, either at Grelfhaven, or later as an Imperial officer. After all, no one could stand up for long against the invincible might of TOG!
Yet, it seemed that the Renegades had dared. Their example had inspired an underground movement that T.C. claimed extended throughout TOG's Galactic domains. They had taken the name Renegade for themselves as a kind of talisman. The Terran Empire could be beaten.
"Remember, we're talking about two groups, really. The Renegade Legion is the military unit fighting alongside the Commonwealth. The Renegade Underground is here. Within the Empire. It's a huge organization," she continued. "Among other things, it runs a kind of network, an underground railroad, for moving people out of the Empire. Escaped slaves. Rescued political prisoners. Ordinary people sick of TOG's tyranny. They call it the Freedom Road."
"That's what Captain White meant when he talked about smuggling people out of Alba," Kendric said thoughtfully. For a m
oment, he wondered who those passengers might have been, then thought of the tortured political past of his own homeworld, of the Jacobite resistance to the TOG Empire. The most visible and vocal Jacobites had disappeared from Alba even before Kendric had left for Grelfhaven with Cara. Had they been picked up by TOG, or might they traveled out on Zannifred White's Freedom Road?
"There are people everywhere who don't like the Empire, Ken... who don't like what it stands for or what it's doing." T.C.'s voice was grave, and some undefinable emotion seemed to tug at her expression, especially around the eyes and mouth.
"Something's wrong," he said.
"It's just...Ken, I have to know where you stand in all this. I can't talk about it otherwise. I can't!"
"You mean about this rebel underground?"
"Uh huh. Look, you're not Imperial Navy now, right? Your oath doesn't bind you to Caesar's service anymore, not after Grod!"
"No...I guess it doesn't."
"Don't guess, Ken!" She released his hand."Decide! And then tell me, because I have to know!"
"It's not that easy, T.C., I haven't—"
"Ken! Are you telling me you'd go back to serve TOG now? Give your loyalty to Caesar and to Terra?" There was sick horror in her eyes.
"God, no! But there are things...some things I have to think through. Don't forget that I grew up convinced that the Terran Overlord Government was the salvation of the Human race. That there might be abuses of power...mistakes..."
"Mistakes!"
"Yes, mistakes! And evil men misusing power, and corruption, and injustice, and everything else! But I was convinced that the idea behind the Empire was good...and right!"
"And now?"
"Remember that conversation during our first time 'looking at the sky"?
She nodded.
"I think that's when I began to reexamine all I had taken for granted until now."
They were silent for a long time them, each lost in thought. Dschubba Street opened onto the Diralen Market Square, and they chose the avenue leading back to the starport. There were Humans here as well as aliens, some in stalls that lined the streets, but most in the crowd around them. The atmosphere was one of bustling commerce, of good-natured haggling and minor bickering over prices. Kendric watched a KessRith merchant, his Imperial merchanter license prominently tack-welded to the armor plates of his breast. The alien was bargaining with a Human over the price of a large, purplish, and unappetizing-looking fruit.
"It looks to me now as though it's TOG that is twisting everything Humankind has worked for since the beginning," he said at last. "The order to destroy Trothas V...the deliberate crippling of KessRith captives I saw there..." He shook his head as if to clear it. He had never known thoughts, or a progression of simple reasoning, to hurt so. "TOG has got to be stopped. God help me, I don't know how. But TOG has got to be stopped, and I am going to fight them."
T.C. slipped her hand into his again. "That's enough for me, Ken."
Again, they walked silently for awhile. "That symbol you drew on the table back there," he said finally. "That's the Renegade's emblem?"
"Yes. It's a way they can recognize one another, when it's not safe to do so openly. This sign, too." She held one slim hand up for him to see, her first and second fingers crossed. "It's the letter 'R' in an old, old type of sign language. When White used it, I knew he must be a Renegade and that he was trying it to see if we would spot it. That's why I responded."
Kendric shook his head. "It was dangerous, T.C.. He could have been an informer.. .a spy."
"The Lion of Tallifiero, afraid to take risks?"
He turned to look at her, measuring her mocking tone. T.C. 's smile robbed the mockery of its bite.
"Where'd you hear about that?"
"Jaime, of course. He never stops talking about you."
"He's got a big mouth. Anyway, my combat record is not the point."
"I think it is. Your willingness to take measured risks is. I was as certain of my identification of White as I could be. Of course I couldn't be positive. But if we want to get off this planet... if you want to get back to Alba.. .we're going to have to take some risks!"
"I suppose you're right."
"You know I'm right." She hesitated. "Do you still want to go back to Alba?"
He nodded. He felt uneasy, though, and didn't know why. "I., .have
to."
"What's wrong?"
"It's strange, but I've never felt that much of a...well, loyalty for Alba, all by itself. Or for the Gael Cluster. At the Imperial school I went to, I grew up thinking about TOG, about Mankind in the Galaxy as a whole, not about Alba as... home." He shook his head. "Thinking about yourself as the citizen of any one world was...discouraged."
"TOG can't stop us from thinking about home," she said, very quietly.
He looked at her and almost read T.C.'s mind. "You're thinking about your brother."
"Am I that transparent? Or are you a telepathic adept?"
"I'm just remembering you talking about your brother joining a rebel underground. The Renegades?"
"Yes. As Citizen White suggested, the Renegade Underground is quite extensive. Do you remember Ellen?"
Kendric's brow furrowed as he thought a moment. "You told me she was a Renegade, and that you'd gotten the word about your brother through her on Haetai-Aleph."
She nodded. "Yes. She explained the underground to me... showed me some of their secret signs. I suppose I became one of them there, in
D Barracks. Probably because I needed to believe in something outside myself. Ellen...Ellen and I became so close. It hurt a lot...when she died." She held his hand tighter and looked up into his eyes. "I think your kindness to me back then had a lot to do with how I started to feel about you."
"Do you think you can find your brother?"
"I don't know. I hope so. Maybe Captain White can tell me who to talk to while we're traveling."
He was silent for a moment. "You don't have to come with me, you know," he reminded her. "I'm sure we could arrange for White to drop you off somewhere else. I don't want you to feel bound to me...or to what I have to do."
"I'm not sure I know what that is, Ken."
"That's the hell of it. I don't know, either. According to Jaime, TOG is setting about in a cool and calculating manner to completely dismantle my world and my people. I don't know what I can do about 11.1 only know I have to do something! And I can't do it here. I have lo go...home."
She stopped, pulling him to a halt as well. She took both of his hands, turning him so that she could look squarely into his face. "Are you saying you don't want me along?"
He stood there, looking into her clear, blue eyes. "T.C., I'm saying 1 want you with me more than anything in this universe. I'm saying that I love you. But I've got a.. .a path. A place I have to go. I want you with me, but I'd understand if you can't come..."
She took a step forward, coming into his arms. They kissed, long and deep, ignoring the crush of aliens and Humans in the street around ihem. Then she released him, stepping back, but keeping hold of his hands.
"More than anything in the universe, I want to come with you," she said.
Still hand in hand, they returned to the shuttle.
The notion of a so-called "Freedom Road" is a fantasy. How could such an organization exist? How could it be maintained? Supplied? How could it remain hidden from the vigilance of TOG Security forces? And above all, what possible reason would it have to exist, when the vast majority of Humans throughout the Galaxy enjoy a level of freedom, peace, and personal fulfillment never before known by Humankind?
—llustrus Senator Quintus Maximillian of the Terran District, in a speech to the Imperial Senate, New Rome, Terra, 13 Aug 6830, A.I.
The journey from Narbon II to the Gael Cluster was a long one, with many stops at worlds along the way. It was vital that the freighter Corrine appear to be pursuing her normal business as she crossed the Galaxy' s starlanes. As the days passed, Kendric was able to learn muc
h about the operation of that ghost entity known as Freedom Road.
No one, not even those who organized and directed specific parts of the Renegade Underground, knew just how large was the organiza-tion. Its members included soldiers and starmen, businessmen and teachers, independent freighter pilots such as Captain Zannifred White, and even politicians and bureaucrats within the ranks of TOG itself. It included Imperial citizens, plebeians, and slaves. There were members of hundreds of non-Human races as well.
As one of uncounted thousands of ship captains who smuggled people, Captain Zannifred White's role in the Underground was as simple as it was dangerous. He admitted to occasionally smuggling other goods as well, but people were his specialty. Destination: The Commonwealth.
Kendric still had trouble thinking of the Commonwealth as a place of potential friends and allies. The first time he had ever heard of it was during one particularly painful incident at Kathlandi Primus, when several older boys had caught him alone and beaten him bloody. "Yah, Provie!" the leader had sneered with a final kick to Kendric's stomach. "You should go live with the bug-loving Wealthies! Commonwealth people'11 love anything!""
The histories he had studied, the sociological reports he had absorbed throughout his four years on Grelfhaven had, of course, reinforced that first, learned impression—that the Humans of the Commonwealth were subservient to xenos and that they wished to overthrow the dominance of Homo sapiens in favor of their own dark, alien gods. Humanity within the Commonwealth was twisted, perverted. Was it really possible that all Kendric had learned since TOG had assumed control of his education was nothing but lies and fabrications?
They saw little of Zannifred White during the voyage to Alba. Captain White was one of those individuals known variously as a "shiprider" or "socketer," a person with a surgically implanted cybernetic device that allowed him to tie directly into a starship's control systems. When White flew his ship, with data feeds plugged into the sockets on either side of his head, he was, in a sense, one with the ship, for he saw and sensed directly through the Corrine's electronic senses.
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