Giles Kurns_Rogue Instigator

by Ell Leigh Clarke

  Their movements were controlled by organics of course, but within their motion, they had hundreds, if not thousands, of balance correction routines and algorithms to make it impossible for them to fall.

  She strategically chose to forget that though. Hope does that to a girl.

  She focused her attention as best she could . . . but she had moments before a sword-wielding Queegert was going to be upon her, and she needed to defend herself.

  She closed her eyes for a moment and prayed. Prayed that some great spirit or ancestor might take pity on her and allow her to conjure an extra-powerful fireball. Just. This. Once . . . she prayed.

  She opened her eyes and looked down at her hands. Nothing. FUCK.

  She looked up, the two Mechs now within crushing distance of her.

  She thought briefly, they could’ve blasted her already by now. Why not crush her?

  And just then, as she prepared to surrender to her own impending death, one of the Mechs turned, wobbled, and then bitch slapped the other, causing it to fall backwards.

  Arlene’s mouth dropped open. Stunned, she couldn’t move. But that was her chance.

  Gathering herself, she put her hands together again, trying to conjure the fireball to take the other out.

  “Don’t shoot!” Giles’s voice came through her audio implant.

  “What?”

  “Don’t shoot. I mean, fireball. It’s me. In the Mech.” The Mech that was still standing bowed its head to reveal Giles in the cockpit.

  “Holy crap!” Arlene exclaimed, high on adrenaline and relief. “What the—?”

  Giles wore his cocky expression as if he’d lived his high school years as a confident jock. “Scamp managed to override their communications and eject the former occupant. I thought it’d be fun to give it a go . . . after all not everyda—”

  “In the middle of a war zone?” Arlene chastised him, her hands going straight to her hips. “Do you really thin—”

  A blaster shot in her direction. She ducked and rolled before making a suggestion. “Let’s do this somewhere safer. Any ideas of bringing this to an end?”

  “Yes, Scamp is just working on powering down the other Mech and issuing a retreat command.”

  “Good show, Scamp!” Arlene muttered, picking up a discarded cattle prod and turning and using it as a staff to protect herself from being hit with the butt of a soldier’s blaster. “Take that!” she grunted, stabbing her attacker squarely through the chest.

  The Queegert staggered backwards, his shell penetrated by the cattle prod. He coughed up a splattering of blood, then collapsed on the floor.

  “Will that work?” she checked with Giles.

  “Should do,” he replied casually, turning his Mech back the other way. “And if it doesn’t, I think I might just stick around and have some fun. You know . . . these things have blasters.” He fired a blaster shot out into the crowd of advancing security guards, who scattered and then started to retreat.

  Wheeling round again, he turned to see Arlene’s expression. Arlene raised a single eyebrow and turned to head back up the hill.

  “Oh, wait, hang on, Arlene,” Giles called through their comm channel.

  She stopped and turned, motioning with her arms a kind of what now gesture.

  “Don’t suppose you could help me take a selfie in this thing . . . only . . .” He tried to bring his arms up to get his holo in a selfie position. “It’s kinda tight in here.”

  Arlene shook her head and began walking away. “Scamp?” she called. “What’s your location?”

  “Good to hear you, Arlene,” Scamps voice chimed in her implant. “I’m just homing in on your position. Be there in a second. I imagine you’ll want a lift back up that hillside.”

  “I’d say,” Arlene responded, keeping her wits about her for stray blaster shots as she picked her way over the devastation of bodies she’d left from before the cavalry arrived.

  “Could do with finding Anne, too,” she added. “She won’t have gotten far.”

  CHAPTER SEVENTEEN

  Inside the Royal Settlement, Mallifrax-8

  “Ok, that’s the last of it,” Arlene declared handing a box to Bill.

  Bill chuckled to himself, taking the box from her. “Wow, you really do travel light.”

  Arlene shot him a playful glare, which he tried to surrender to and put his hands up . . . only to be hindered by the box he was carrying. The two laughed as Bill carried the crate out and loaded it onto the Scamp.

  Arlene followed him out. “Where’d Giles go?”

  Anne was sitting on the decking, eating some leftover soup that needed using before they left. She pointed her spoon in the direction of the Mech.

  Arlene rolled her eyes.

  Moving around the side of the Scamp Princess, she could see what was going on. Giles, once again, in the Mech, having hiked it up the mountainside—at great risk to himself and the machine—had managed to find a position where he could have his holo arm outside the control pod and still get both him and the Mech in frame.

  Arlene glowered at him, hands on her hips. “We’re busting our asses out here trying to get packed up to go home, and you’re taking . . . selfies?”

  Giles grinned at the camera, talking back to Arlene through his selfie face. “Just wanted to get a good shot in for Molly. She’d never believe me otherwise.”

  Arlene rolled her eyes. “I’m sure she’d believe you . . . I mean, you do have to write reports on this, right?” Arlene folded her arms and sighed. “I think the bigger question is, does she care?”

  Giles stopped and looked at her.

  “About whether you got a good picture of it or not,” Arlene qualified. “I mean, obviously she’d care about whether you . . . erm . . . saved the day or not.” She closed her eyes, shaking her head almost imperceivably, before walking away. Getting embroiled in the Molly-Giles or M-Giles drama wasn’t high on her priorities right now.

  “Ok, Anne,” she called, clapping her hands. “Let’s get that washed up, and then we’ll be ready to go.”

  Anne ignored her and was now chatting with Bill, animatedly recounting the events of the previous day when she’d valiantly kicked a Queegert in the balls.

  Kids, she thought to herself . . . including Giles in the category. Why do I even bother?

  She mounted the stairs to the ship’s cockpit. At least Scamp listens to me.

  Mining Settlement, Mallifrax-8

  Arlene and Giles strode across the sandy terrain of the mining colony to meet with the Logans who’d survived the rebellion. Scamp had insisted on landing as close to the settlement as possible to ensure they had adequate cover in case anything went wrong.

  “Nothing’s going to go wrong,” Arlene insisted, patting the weapon strapped to her right thigh.

  Bill eyed her carefully, but Anne was sure she’d clocked a degree of admiration in his demeanor. Anne had been instructed to stay on the ship, but had followed a few paces behind the pair, regardless.

  Giles and Arlene approached the gathering crowd of Logans, just ahead of the settlement. Voyved and The Shepherd were at the front, awaiting their arrival. As they stepped closer, the crowd erupted in a cheer.

  “Man, they’re ugly when they smile. Is that really their custom?” Arlene whispered through her teeth.

  “I don’t think so,” Giles whispered back. “I think this is something they’ve heard about from us humans and Estarians.”

  “I think it’s sweet!” Anne piped up.

  Arlene spun around. “Young lady! I thought—”

  Anne held her hands up in surrender. “I’ll be good. I promise.”

  Arlene gritted her teeth and kept walking towards the Queegerts, wearing her own false smile. “I swear, that girl . . . does she even realize we’re trying to keep her safe, not punish her?”

  Giles patted her gently on her arm and waved at their greeters.

  “Greetings, greetings,” The Shepherd called as they came into earshot. “Our gracious sa
viors. We’re so thankful to your service to our colony. Come,” he beckoned them into the settlement.

  The people followed all around them. Arlene recognized Voyved, who stepped towards her, bowing as best he could. “My lady, please accept my deepest apologies for what my friends did to you.”

  He started to look up and caught Anne’s eye. Anne rushed forward to Arlene’s side. “I don’t believe that he was the instigator,” she said quietly, nudging Arlene’s elbow.

  “Yeah, but he stood by and kept watch,” she replied through gritted teeth.

  Anne nudged her again. “I know. But I don’t think he was really in on it. I believe him. He was my friend. He looked after me when . . . when I was lost.”

  Arlene felt Anne was keeping something from her, but it wasn’t the time to press her. Instead, she bowed slightly to Voyved. “Well, then I think we can call us even,” she said as graciously as she could manage.

  Voyved’s relief was palpable. “Thank you. Thank you . . .” he said, bowing as he retreated. Anne followed him as the grownups talked.

  Giles was already being introduced to the crowd and had started addressing them. “What went on here a few days ago is inexcusable. The way you’ve been treated is inexcusable. The losses you’ve suffered have been . . . horrific. And my deepest sympathies go out to you and your families.”

  Anne watched, mesmerized as the crowd settled, also hypnotized by his words.

  “The fact is that, this regime you’ve been living under has got to change. You deserve better. And thanks to the generosity of a number of people, I’m here to announce a solution. Your Crown has approved these changes, safeguarding your lives and your livelihoods for as long as these mines can offer etheriam.”

  The crowd cheered.

  Anne glanced up at Arlene to see if she was equally impressed . . .… or at least surprised at how eloquently their doddery professor was addressing the audience. Arlene seemed pleased with the outcome. But not in the least taken aback.

  Giles’s voice rang through the settlement, the pitch and passion welling and moving the Queegerts around him as he explained the new setup.

  Meanwhile, Bill had emerged from the ship and was wandering over . . . almost as if his appearance had been choreographed. As he arrived at Giles’s side, Giles put his arm around him.

  “This man, my former mentor and friend, is here to help. He has ensured that your etheriam will be bought at a fair price. A price that will mean it can be sold, but also at a price which will allow you to continue your work in comfort. It will afford you enough so that you can save for your future. And your dreams. Values that both Logans and us humans hold dear.” Giles paused and winked at Arlene. “I think even Estarians are pretty keen on the idea, too.”

  The crowd rumbled with laughter.

  Giles continued to speak to them, explaining that their equipment may change ownership and that rent will eventually be paid to the new company. “This new outfit will charge you market rates. It will be competitive. It’ll have to be . . . because otherwise, Your Crown will be free to bring someone else in. And all this is possible because you’ll no longer be held to ransom by a single entity.”

  Arlene rolled her lips, wondering if his explanation was falling on deaf or even indifferent ears.

  Anne nudged her. “What is it?” she asked.

  Arlene squatted down to explain to Anne. “This is a great model,” she said quietly, “but I’m just concerned that if these folks don’t understand it and don’t understand why these various elements are important, in a few decades it’s not going to matter.”

  Anne frowned. “So you mean, they need educating?”

  Arlene grinned, suddenly realizing that would be the simple solution. “You’re smarter than you let on, eh?” she said, rubbing Anne’s arm gently as she stood up. “How about you and I talk to The Crown about that when we say goodbye later?”

  Anne nodded, finally feeling like Arlene was accepting her as a person and not just an inconvenience.

  Giles’s speech went on a while longer and was met with a rousing applause. There were celebrations and dancing to drums, and Bill met with a few of the community leaders before promising to return with his men when they came to set up the distribution node by the mine.

  “Right then,” Giles said, rubbing his hands together. “We have another meeting to attend to,” he explained to The Shepherd as he took their leave. The four of them waved like royalty as they left the settlement and headed back to the Scamp Princess.

  “Well, that went better than expected,” Arlene chuffed as they walked back in a line side by side.

  Giles glanced at her sideways. “Oh, yeah? Had your doubts, did you?”

  Anne chirped up. “Yeah. I did! It was touch and go as to whether Arlene was going to kill that Queegert.”

  Arlene put her arm around Anne’s shoulder. “No, no . . . come on. I would never kill someone in cold blood.”

  Somehow, Anne wasn’t sure that she wasn’t being ironic. Her voice was laced with way more information than her deadpan expression was letting on. Anne narrowed her eyes to see Arlene return a tiny smile.

  “Well,” Bill interjected, “I’m glad we didn’t have to get involved with more riots and the like. That can be a dreadfully unpleasant business.”

  Arlene flashed him a smile. “And if you operate this place like we intend you to, you’ll never have to worry about that again!”

  Bill grinned, pleased for her attention but also not completely sure that wasn’t a veiled threat. He nodded deferentially. “We’ll make sure of it,” he assured her, wiping his suddenly sweaty palms on his atmosuit pants.

  Anne noticed and said nothing. She kinda liked Arlene sometimes—the way she can get things done . . .

  They arrived back at the Scamp Princess and climbed the steps. Giles ushered them on. “All aboard!” he called. “One meeting down . . . two more to go . . .”

  “This problem-solving lark is a lot of meetings!” Anne called down from the front of the line boarding the ship.

  Giles chuckled. “Yes, it is,” he agreed, satisfied with the outcome.

  Royal Crown Settlement, Mallifrax-8

  It was late afternoon by the time the Kurns party arrived at The Crown Settlement for their appointment. The Crown had planned for them a meeting where Arlene and Giles would consult on the rewriting of the laws that would ensure that his citizens were protected from further commercial exploitation.

  Anne sat quietly, listening across the room, while Bill had already excused himself to wait elsewhere, out of the way. Anne heard him mutter something about a room with a bar.

  “There’s just one more thing I think we should consider, Your Highness,” Arlene ventured as they signed off on the final details.

  The Crown waved his hand in a flourishing motion, inviting her to proceed. Arlene continued. “It occurred to me as we were informing the Logans of the new parties involved that . . . well, unless they understand things like the need for fair and adequate competition between their suppliers and the people they supply, for instance, the possibility always remains for them to vote in a new system or a new entity into the dynamic who could then exploit them again.”

  The Crown moved awkwardly. Arlene got the sense he didn’t like the point she raised. “That could be said for anything though,” he grunted.

  Arlene took a deep breath as discretely as she could. “Yes, Your Highness. However, with a little bit of understanding and education, if your people and indeed your advisers here understood some of these dynamics, you can avoid decades of pain and suffering and simply shortcut potential problems.”

  The Crown frowned. “What are you proposing?”

  “Well,” Arlene said, sitting back in her chair to relieve any pressure he might be experiencing from her. “There are a number of possibilities. Some of these things are well-researched and well-known in our world.” She indicated to Giles. “You see, we study just this in the context of academia and real-life situa
tions, and there are some principles and case studies that are very useful in helping lots of people to understand the important things quickly.”

  She paused and looked to Giles. Giles picked up where she left off. “Not only that but teaching people how to evaluate what’s being proposed and how to think critically isn’t just fundamental to your population acting in their own best interests. You’ll find that those skills are transferred seamlessly to their work. They begin to problem-solve and improve the processes they use. They become more engaged in making things work better. In making life better for themselves and those around them, they start to bond better as teams because they realize that they’re better when working together. The knock-on effects are, well . . . quite incredible.”

  Giles pushed his glasses up on his nose, watching carefully as The Crown thought about it. “And how might they receive this information?”

  Giles handed it back to Arlene. “Well, there are any number of ways. We work at an educational institution. We can have some of your best teachers come and attend there. Or we can send the information to you. I think a combination might be the most effective though.”

  The Crown was silent for a few moments, and then became distracted. “I think it’s time for us to go and eat. But I like your proposal. In principle, we should make it happen. Be in touch with my aide, Quarg-nah.” He indicated the same dour-looking Queegert who’d attended their meeting last time when he assigned Rolf-nah to them. “He’ll organize the details.”

  Arlene bowed her head in deference. “Thank you, Your Highness. You are indeed a wise ruler.”

  Giles smiled, but didn’t try to have a dig at Arlene there. He understood the importance of this man’s ego in the process, and if anything, he respected Arlene for getting her own out of the way in order to appease him and do what was necessary for his people.

  The Crown had already got up and shuffled across the room to the door. Giles winked his approval at Arlene’s result, and the pair followed The Crown out to the banquet halls.