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Cain's Crusaders

Page 19

by T. R. Harris


  Adam broadcast the landing request using the Armplanese military code.

  “What is your business upon Formil?” the dispatcher asked. Adam had painted his skin black using grease from the landing bay, and dressed in an Armplanese military uniform. He didn’t know of the Armplanese came in black, but he was also hoping the dispatcher didn’t know either.

  “The Order has requested all the assistance in guarding the Temple that members of the Coalition can provide. We are a detachment of security personnel sent to assist.”

  “I am not aware of any such request. You are the only vessel claiming this request.”

  “It has been relatively recent that the request was made, since the efforts to prevent The Speaker from returning to Formil appear to have failed. The High Celebrant himself has determined that all efforts must now be placed in guarding the Temple at this time.”

  “But we have sufficient personnel within the Formilian population to guard the Temple.”

  The dispatcher was being exceptionally cautious. Adam would have to get a little more forceful. “I am an official representative of the Armplanese people. I have come at the request of your High Celebrant to assist in a mission of paramount importance to our sacred religion. Without clearance, we will not be able to perform our mission, and my government, as well as your own, will be very upset. Is it your wish to cause an inter-Coalition incident, when all we are attempting to do is help?”

  The dispatcher began to look uncertain. “I will have to contact my superiors within the Order—”

  “There is no time for that! The Rites Ceremony is only hours away, and my forces need to be in place well before that time. We are already behind schedule due to the traffic surrounding your world. Every moment lost in this meaningless banter will only cause further damage to Armplanese and Formilian relations. Your name will read prominently within my report should this come to pass!”

  This seemed to push the dispatcher over the edge. He typed something on the keyboard in front of him and looked up at Adam once again. His face was full of contempt. “I have transmitted your landing code. You are cleared to the Order landing field just outside the compound walls. I have requested transports to be at your disposal for the movement of your troops to the Temple. Is there anything else you require?” The question came off dripping of sarcasm and disgust.

  “No, that will suffice. I regret the confusion, but the situation we are facing is grave. I do appreciate your cautious approach. That, too, will be noted in my end-of-mission report.”

  The dispatcher seemed to perk-up, just a little, but then he simply nodded and cut the link.

  Adam leaned back in the pilot’s seat and looked over at Arieel, who had been sitting off screen, listening to the conversation. He let out a deep sigh.

  “We’ll at least be able to get to the surface,” he said to her, “and maybe all the way to the Temple doors. How do we get in from there, and what happens once the ceremony starts?”

  “The Temple is a large building with many chambers. The Rites Ceremony is conducted in the Throne Room. I sit upon the throne and recite the Sacrament. It only takes a couple of minutes.”

  “How many others are present?”

  “Several dozen, mainly those of the High Order, along with a few visiting dignitaries who have made the pilgrimage. The event happens every twenty-eight days, so it is not that important among my other duties.” She suddenly took a deep breath, the seriousness of all the prior ceremonies now hitting her all at once. “At least I had never considered it to be very important. Now I know better.”

  “We’re almost there, Arieel. Once the deadline for the bounty has passed, then you’ll be safe. And I’m sure the Order will now institute new security procedures around you to prevent another event like from ever happening again.”

  Arieel’s expression suddenly grew very hard. “I am especially distressed that members of my own Order may be conspiring to kill me. There will be a purging, Adam Cain. Only those truly loyal to the Order will remain when I am done. Those who would kill their Speaker simply for credits will be no more.”

  Adam had no doubt she was serious. Head would roll for this, especially since Adam was fully convinced that her kidnapping had been an inside job. McCarthy had almost admitted as much when he spoke of the inside information he had about Arieel, even knowing about the explosive within her body when even she was unaware of its existence.

  In a way, Adam felt sorry for her. She had always lived her life behind a veil of protocol and ceremony, unable to experience life beyond the walls of the Temple Complex. And yet she was a lively and curious personality. It was a waste the way she was living, and yet it was what she had always known. It was simply another example of a person’s predetermined place in life confining them to a living prison.

  Having experienced a brief, yet tumultuous, look at life outside the Temple walls, Adam wondered if Arieel would ever be content with her regimented existence ever again? He looked over at her, only to find her arranging her hair in the reflection of the nav monitor, completely lost in the primping. Hell, she may welcome the return of the old routine. At least that way she could always look her best – which appeared to be her main priority at the moment.

  “This is getting critical Major,” Carter Thomas said. He was looking at a clock on the wall of the common room aboard their spaceship, now located somewhere between Uniss-3 and their secret base. “Three fucking hours left and still no word if they’ve been found or not.”

  For his part, Nigel McCarthy was also very concerned. The bounty offer had started off with such high promise. Cain had been located within hours of its disclosure and a short chase ensued. But then he simply disappeared, having not been seen nor heard from again in over six days. It was virtually impossible for this to have happened. At one count, there were over two thousand spaceships looking for him. How the hell did he slip through?

  “I assume all the steps have been taken on Formil?” Nigel asked. “As the hours go by their path will become narrower and narrower. I simply refuse to believe that they’ll be able to get inside the Temple. How could they?”

  “How could they evade two thousand ships, too, but they did? At this point, I’m tempted to put my money on Cain.”

  McCarthy glared at his second-in-command. “I put my money on us – thirty-five million credits worth. Have a little faith sergeant-major. It’s not over yet.”

  Carter looked at the clock again. “It will be, in two hours and fifty minutes. Either the bitch will be dead, or we’ll be back to square one.”

  Nigel looked at the clock as well. There’s no arguing with that, he thought. Maybe it’s about time I started working on a backup plan? And then he laughed out loud, causing Thomas to frown. But then he thought, So, I need a backup plan for my bloody backup plan! Ain’t that some shite? You know, at some point, I’m really going to have to kill that bastard Adam Cain.

  The small Armplanese spaceship dropped to the surface of Formil unmolested and settled down under chemical drive on the vast Order landing field outside the walls of the Temple Complex. Adam had departed for Uniss-3 from this very field eleven days earlier, having never expected the sequence of events that would unfold during that time. But his mission wasn’t complete, not yet. In fact, the most-dangerous part may still be ahead of him.

  True to the dispatcher’s word, two large transport vehicles pulled up to the ship, expecting to transport the security detail to the Temple. Since there were only two passengers aboard the ship, that discrepancy might be difficult to explain.

  The black grease he had worn to deceive the dispatcher wouldn’t work face to face, so he had cleaned up, revealing his true pink complexion. He still wore the uniform of the Armplanese military, and he had even found a hat that looked like part of the official outfit. He pulled the soft-brimmed cap down as far as he could on his head while still being able to see and then opened the outer hatch. He also wore an MK-17 secured to his hip.

  The driver
of the first transport was a young Formilian. If Adam had thought the Formilian males he seen to date were handsome beyond belief, the younger ones were even more so. The firm, tanned body, the narrow waist and bulging muscles again appeared to be in perfect proportional to the rest of the body, leading Adam to believe again that this was genetic rather than manufactured.

  “Greetings,” Adam said as he approached the Formilian.

  “Greetings, are your troops ready? I understand you are to help guard the Temple. We must hurry, the ceremony will begin soon.”

  Adam was surprised how well-informed the supposedly lowly transport driver seemed to be.

  “This is true,” Adam said casually, “yet before I disembark my troops, I wish to survey the Temple grounds so as to best form a defensive perimeter.” Adam smiled slightly, actually impressed with his off-the cuff remark.

  “I understand. But then we must hurry.”

  “My adjutant will be accompanying us. It is a female, and Armplanese females are not normally allowed to be viewed by offworlders. Will you please show her respect by not viewing her?”

  The young Formilian frowned. “I will oblige, however I find that such behavior would be a deterrent to her performance of her duties on Formil. I must say, your command did not properly plan for this mission.”

  Damn, the kid’s not only incredibly handsome he’s also smart as a whip.

  “You are correct, young Formilian,” Adam quickly agreed. “I can tell your skills go far beyond those of a mere transport driver.”

  The Formilian frowned again; had Adam said something wrong? “I am Ryfor O’yn Rey, a ninth-degree Celebrant, attached to the personal security detail of Speaker Arieel Bol. I have taken this assignment because I feel it important that as many forces protect the Speaker as can be mustered. I will myself be standing at the entrance to the Temple at the time of the ceremony, prepared to die to preserve the life of Arieel Bol.”

  “Very commendable, young Celebrant and I apologize if I insulted your position. I will now summon my adjutant so we may proceed.”

  A simple hand gesture brought Arieel down the ramp from the Armplanese ship. She also wore a military uniform, although they had cut off nearly two feet of the pant legs to accommodate her shorter stature. She wore a cap as well, yet had also placed a scarf of matching color over her face, leaving only her eyes showing.

  With respect, the young Formilian did not look Arieel’s way, but instead boarded the vehicle and allowed Adam and Arieel to slide into the seat directly behind him. With a large troop carrier behind, the cab did not have a rearview mirror, so Arieel was able to avoid scrutiny as the transport made the short journey from the spaceport, through the gates of the compound and into the very heart of the Temple Complex.

  There was forty-two minutes left until the start of the ceremony. Adam smiled. That would be plenty of time; they had made it.

  The large transport lumbered through the narrow streets of the ancient Temple Complex, its path hindered by the mass of people crowding the area. Most appeared to security personnel of some sort, while hundreds, if not thousands wore the ugly mustard colored robes of the Order. Adam wondered how any semblance of protection could be afforded Arieel in such a confused mess? Any one of these thousands of creatures could be a killer. Even Adam still wore an MK-17 around his waist; the young Celebrant not even bothering with a cursory search for weapons or explosives. Was it the same for all these other creatures?

  Once they entered the vast plaza facing the ornate, six-story façade of the Temple itself, they found the going to be even slower. Literally thousands of people were packed into the plaza awaiting the Rites Ceremony. The way Arieel had described it, the monthly ritual was fairly routine and not very-well attended, yet not this one, apparently. Were these all devote worshipers, intent on seeing if their demi-god would survive her trials, or were they simply gawkers hoping to see a spectacle? Whatever the reason, today was shaping up to be the event of the season.

  “I will be unable to get near the entrance of the Temple with the transport,” Ryfor announced from the front seat. “I will take us around to the back, where I have reserved a location.”

  Adam nodded his agreement. Entering the Temple from the rear would be much easier than through the front doors, and better hidden.

  The transport soon left the loud and barely manageable throng of creatures in the plaza and followed a narrow cobblestone road along the side of the towering building. Armed security personnel, all Formilians, lined the street, each cradling Xan-fi flash rifles and watching them pass with suspicious scrutiny. Around the back of the Temple was your typical behind-the-scene letdown, a large parking area, with simple wooden huts where security troops were dispatched and supervisors sat with cups of coffee in their hands – or whatever passed for coffee on Formil.

  Ryfor pulled the transport into a wide space between two other large trucks at the far end of the parking lot next to a protruding arm of the Temple. Only a few additional guards were around and Adam was beginning to feel very optimistic of their chances. They only had thirty minutes or so before the ceremony, yet here they were, just outside the Temple building.

  Ryfor jumped out of the cab and then opened the door for Adam and Arieel to climb out. Even though the parking space was wide, Ryfor had crowded a truck to their right, so Arieel had to shuffle over and exit out the left side of the truck right behind Adam.

  Adam turned and helped her down, and the moment her feet hit the cobblestone ground, her body collapsed against his. Adam held her with both arms, seeing her eyes close, her mouth falling slack. He twisted his head around quickly and found Ryfor standing a few feet away. “Help me …” But then Adam saw the tiny dart gun held in Ryfor’s hand. The thin barrel was now aimed at him.

  Anger surged up in Adam and he took a step toward the Formilian with Arieel still held in his arms. He had no idea if the tranquilizer dart would work on him, but he was willing to take the chance.

  Just then three other Formilian swarmed over him, pulling Arieel away and grabbing his arms. In spite of their size and bulging muscles, the grip of the Formilians on his arms felt weak and unsubstantial. But still Ryfor had the dart gun.

  The young Celebrant stepped closer to Adam, displaying a thin smile. “Yes, I knew it was you,” Ryfor said smugly. “When a ship without prior clearance lands just before the beginning of the ceremony, I grew suspicious. But then when only two of you emerge, a male and female, it was so obvious as to insult my intelligence. Did you honestly believe I would not recognize my own Speaker? Even without seeing her I could smell her scent and surmise her form.”

  “You’re going to kill your own god?” Adam asked between clinched jaws. “You’re a Celebrant; you worship her.”

  “Indeed I do, Mr. Cain. And I assure you, I will not kill her.”

  Adam’s heart leapt. Was Ryfor really an ally?

  “Then you will get her to the Throne Room?”

  “Of course not, Mr. Cain, I was the one who originally assisted in her abduction. I am also the one who revealed to The Ma-Jor the existence of the explosive within her body. Only certain Celebrants know of this – the higher ranking … and her security personnel.”

  “So you’re going let her explode? That’s still killing her, you moron!”

  “I was not the one who placed the device within her body, so I do not bear the full responsibility.” He motioned with his head and the entourage moved out, entering the building through a set of double doors. They moved quickly down a deserted corridor lined with walls of solid stone until Ryfor opened another door and motioned them all inside.

  It was a rectory of some sort, complete with a modest bed and work table where one of the Celebrants of the Order would have stayed. Arieel was placed gently on the bed by one of the other Formilians while the other two guarding Adam pulled MK-17’s. With Arieel unconscious, the weapons could prove lethal if set at level-one.

  “So what, now we just wait?”

  Ryfor s
miled again. “Not we, Mr. Cain. Even though the explosive is small, it is still substantial enough to sustain considerable damage within a radius of fifty feet more. Its creators wanted to be sure to kill any around the Speaker who might be holding her against her will, as sort of revenge. As I said, I will be standing guard outside the Temple entrance when the explosion occurs.”

  Adam was confused. What would become of him?

  Just then Ryfor fired the dart gun again. The sharp projectile penetrated the skin of Adam’s chest and discharged it potent contents. Almost immediately, Adam began to grow weak and his vision blurry. He tumbled to the floor, his arms and legs now feeling numb and useless.

  Ryfor knelt next to him and pulled his head up by the chin to look into Adam’s eyes, even as they flickered with the last vestiges of vision. “Your spirit will have the honor of mingling with that of the Speaker, Mr. Cain. For that I envy you. I have been in love with Arieel since I was very young, however, I will suppress my sorrow with the knowledge that I, and my colleagues here, will now share in the thirty-million credits you have so impressively made available to us. I did not hold out any promise that you would make it this far, and yet you did. Well done, Mr. Cain. Well done.”

  Ryfor then let Adam’s head fall back as his entire body now lay prone on the floor, his eyes closed … a the cold blanket of death now covering him.

  Chapter 17

  When the greyness began to lift from Adam mind, memories suddenly rushed in, followed by confusion. He remembered taking a tranquilizer dart in the chest and then falling to the floor. He also knew that Arieel lay near him, unconscious, and that there had only been twenty minutes or so before her body would explode.

  If she had exploded, would he still be able to have these thoughts? Was this an afterlife of some kind, where his consciousness simply continued where his mortal life left off? Or was there still time?

  He fought hard to open his eyes, and could feel sensation returning to this arms and legs. His eyes flickered open and he found he was staring up at the ceiling of the rectory, a plaster-over-stone structure with patterns of various leaves in relief.

 

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