by Carl Hubrick
“More than two thirds of my men were gone before they even knew they were at war.”
The cell was hushed. The captain was staring at the other prisoners, but he did not see them. Instead, he saw the shadowy images, the ghosts created by his own mind and the nightmare of their deaths replayed in his memory.
“Then the Megran troopers came at us. We only had a few sidearms left to fight with. They stayed out of range and blasted us with their light-bolt cannons.” He hesitated – swallowed. “Everything around us…was burning. We choked on the black smoke. The flash of incoming light-bolts was all we could see. And the noise was terrible. So much noise…”
His words slowed – then faltered. The tears welled up and over flowed down the grey of his cheeks, and his hands took on a life of their own, clutching and pulling at his clothes.
After a moment, he began again. “We didn’t stand a chance… Some of my men threw stones. They had nothing – no weapons to fight with. And those Megran dogs laughed – laughed out loud as they burned my men down. And there was so much dying… The whole air was screaming…”
“Captain!” The governor’s voice was firm – full of authority – the voice of a commanding officer.
The vision of the dead and dying faded, and the captain came back from his hell. Startled, he glanced round at his fellow prisoners and read their anxious faces.
“I knew all my men,” he murmured softly. “Every one of them a top soldier. They never stood a chance. It was just plain murder.”
“Captain.” The governor said quietly. “All your men fought bravely and well, and those who caused their deaths will be made to answer for it, I promise you.”
The officer looked up, his eyes shiny with tears.
“I’m sorry, Sir Henry,” he said. “Please… I…” His voice wavered. He could not make the words fit into place.
For a moment, no one spoke, and silence reigned as a requiem for the dead.
The captain slumped wearily back down on his bunk, staring down at his clenched hands with unseeing eyes.
The major caught the young man’s sinking head and eased it down onto the crude pillow. He swept the black booted feet from the floor and swung them up gently onto the bunk. Then the blackness came, bestowing a fleeting relief from the pain for the young officer...
* * *
The prisoners sat down at the bare wood table in the centre of the cell to give the sleeping man as much space as they could.
Caroline continued her story in a low voice. “As soon as the aerial bombardment eased, Major Waterman gave me instructions on how to enter the Communication Complex. He and father needed someone to go. They were busy organising what was left of the fight in us, and destroying what secret documents they could.
Then suddenly Megran uniforms were everywhere, pouring like vermin into the governor’s residence. I managed to slip away just before the major and father were taken prisoner.
The governor took up the story. “As she was leaving, Caroline spotted my deputy talking with a Megran captain and guessed the worst.” He was smiling proudly at his daughter. “But just like her mother, she put her head down and carried on.” He winked at Lars. “She always was a stubborn child, especially when she thought she was in the right, which, I might add, she is, more often than not.”
The young woman pulled a face at her father. “I guessed the deputy might be plotting against us,” she resumed, “and that they would soon he on my trail, but I hoped they wouldn’t be able to find me once I reached the complex.” She shook her head. “Otherwise, I wouldn’t have let you help me, Lars. But they knew where to look.” She smiled. “Fortunately, they didn’t realise you were there as well,” she added.
“Then the deputy must be the one who sabotaged the secret complex,” Lars said.
“Sabotaged!” The intelligence officer exclaimed, his voice echoing sharply in the stillness. “The complex sabotaged?” He scowled deeply for a moment and then shrugged. “I should have guessed as much. It would be the logical thing to do. The deputy governor was my immediate superior. He knew as much about the complex as I did. We tend to make assumptions about loyalty at that level. I never thought to suspect…” He shook his head unhappily. “How much damage was there, Lars?”
Lars explained how the power cables had been cut through and sections of them removed.
The major frowned. “Hmm, yes, very efficient – enough to throw a spanner in the works for as long as needed. However, I’ve little doubt the complex is operative again by now, but working for the other side.” He turned to the governor. “Sir Henry, I think you had better fire me, when we get out of this.”
Henry Tudor gave a terse, humourless laugh. “And I was going to ask you to fire me,” he responded. “No, Rupert, we could never have anticipated such treachery. There is a limit to our responsibility – even if there is no such limit to our feelings of guilt.”
“Are there many prisoners here?” Lars asked, changing the subject.
Major Waterman answered him. “Well, going by what we witnessed before they locked us away, and from what we’ve managed to learn since, “ he paused and smiled, “through the – ah – captain’s water-pipe – ah – intercom, it seems they’ve imprisoned a cross-section of the town’s population, women as well as men, but especially young people in their teens. And, of course, there are the few surviving troopers and us.”
“The VIPs,” Lars murmured.
“Who? Oh us – VIPs. Yes, I suppose so,” the major acknowledged with a dry smile. “Like chopping of the serpent’s head, eh Lars?” But at once his expression grew serious again. “However, it’s the main group of prisoners that interests me most. This deliberate selection of townsfolk, with its emphasis on the young, is clearly designed as a threat. Do as you’re told or your young people suffer sort of thing.”
“Hostages!” Lars muttered quietly.
“Exactly! That much is clear. However, I am not sure to whom the threat is directed. We’re no danger to them in here, and there’s nothing left of our fighting force out there.”
He laced his fingers together and pondered the weave of knuckles briefly before he continued.
“There are some areas of relative certainty, though,” he began again. “The raid is too well organized and on too large a scale for a rogue Megran or pirate force, even assuming any such group would be so foolish. To mount a successful attack against a garrison the size of Vegar takes a lot of money and resources.”
He paused, and when he resumed, his voice had become sharp edged and bitter.
“And I do not imagine our deputy governor came cheap. Traitors at his level have expensive price tags.” Lars saw the governor nod gloomily in agreement.
“But it’s more than just Vegar,” the major went on. “We have fifteen other town garrisons scattered over the planet, smaller than us it is true, most round fifty to sixty men and women, but, under normal circumstances, they would have monitored the attack and been here by now if they could. One can only assume that they have all suffered a similar loss of communications, and possibly an attack on or about the same time as us.
“Then there are the two royal cruisers assigned to Trion – the Intrepid and Royal Sovereign. They’re in orbit at present, with skeleton crews only, but their instruments would have registered the attack on the surface and put out a call for help automatically. However, since no such assistance has eventuated, we can only assume that they too, must have been either captured or destroyed.”
“Or betrayed!” Caroline added bluntly.
“Or betrayed!” the major echoed in agreement.
“Then the whole of Trion is the target,” Lars commented.
“Yes, I’m afraid it would seem so,” the major affirmed. “And I would imagine that the planet is already theirs.”
“Yes Rupert,” the governor said with a dispirited shrug. “I can certainly follow your logic and agree with you that the whole of Trion has been taken by the enemy. Clearly, that indeed is wh
at has transpired.
“But the main question I want an answer to, Rupert, is why? Why Trion? Our world has no mineral or other obvious wealth. We are an agricultural planet. Oh granted, we are rich in a sense, but I can’t see those bullies out there being paid off in chickens and eggs, can you?”
The major gave a bleak laugh. “Yes, a good point, governor,” he answered. “And I think you are right. Whatever the reason for the attack, it is not for any sort of wealth Trion has to offer.”
“Then, is it the planet itself?” Lars enquired. “I mean, is the planet of strategic importance in some way?”
“I’ll deal with that as two separate questions if I may, Lars.” The major’s visage took on a contemplative look. “Yes, I think control of the planet, is what the invader wants.” He nodded to himself. “Hmm, yes, I have no doubt of that. But as to strategic importance,” the intelligence officer shook his head, “I really have no idea. We are of no military significance, insofar as I am aware. We are on the outskirts of nowhere – literally. Thus it follows, there are no pointers, militarily speaking, to indicate with any positivity who our enemy might be.”
The governor’s dark brows rose in a puzzled arch. “Are you saying then, Rupert, that we don’t know who our enemy is?”
“Not quite, Sir Henry,” the major replied carefully. “What I am saying is that we must be careful not to jump to conclusions based on insufficient or possibly misleading evidence.”
“Hmm, yes,” the governor acknowledged, his brow crinkling into a frown. “I think I see what you mean.”
“But what about the Megran troopers?” Lars queried. “I saw their camp. There are hundreds of them.”
“Ah!” the major responded. “The uniform could be simply to mislead us, or it could be that some rebel units are acting without the knowledge or consent of the Megran governor. We must be careful not to attribute blame too quickly to the queen’s second cousin.”
Lars shook his head in bafflement. “So, there’s nothing at all we can be certain of?”
“But I am certain,” Caroline put in suddenly. There was a fierce glint in her glare. “You admit, major, that it is much more than a minor skirmish, such as a pirate raid.”
The major gave an affirmative nod.
“Good!” The young woman shot him a triumphant look. “Then it has to be Ferdinand, governor of Megran, who is our enemy, as I have thought all along. Ferdinand is the only ruler in the Commonwealth, apart from the queen herself, who has the resources and nerve to mount such an attack. And he has the motive.”
“Motive?” her father queried.
“Yes motive!” the young woman declared. “That man is as ruthless as he is ambitious. In his arrogance, he has twice pressed the queen for her hand in marriage, even knowing she has taken a vow of celibacy. And twice she has spurned him and informed him his attentions are unwelcome.”
“I never knew that,” the governor muttered.
“On one occasion the queen found it necessary to order her guards to remove him from her court,” Caroline resumed. “She told me so herself, and there were harsh words and vague threats. The man is vicious and evil. He would stop at nothing to harm the queen. Don’t you agree, Judith?”
“I don’t know, dear,” the older woman murmured in reply, all at once uncomfortable to voice her opinion. “But I’m sure you’re right. He sounds a dreadful man.”
The governor nodded. “Hmm yes, I know you have the queen’s ear, m’dear,” he said. “You may well have struck upon something. But to me it all seems just too outrageous…”
“As I see it,” Caroline took up again. “It’s perfectly simple. Ferdinand is going to use us to bargain with the queen. Whatever he’s planning, he intends to force Her Majesty to his purpose, and he’s quite capable of slaughtering us all, if it so suits.”
“A plausible theory, Lady Caroline,” the major murmured. He pursed his lips in deliberation for a moment, then conceded. “Quite plausible indeed.”
“Hmm!” Sir Henry too, wore a reflective look. “But now I think I must take Rupert’s place as devil’s advocate.” He paused, gathering his thoughts. “I think we are underestimating the queen in this, and I doubt Ferdinand would make the same mistake. I know Ferdinand. He is no fool, and he is no gambler. I cannot believe he would take the risk. There must be more to this than meets the eye.
“As the queen’s governor on Megran, Ferdinand has the queen’s trust. If he has attacked one of Her Majesty’s planets, then he has committed an act of high treason and the queen will show him no mercy, and her punishment will be swift and severe.” The governor was now warming to his theme. “Our Elizabeth is ruler by blood, training, and instinct. She has generations of royal heritage in her veins. Powerful though Ferdinand is, she will not hesitate to move against him, hostages or no. She has no other choice. And she will annihilate him, have no doubt of that. Earth alone is a match, but Bess can call on support from all the other planets of the Commonwealth – Lumai, Theti, and New Terra. And they – will – come – for she is Bess!”
“Yes!” The major agreed emphatically. “The queen would be a dangerous adversary.”
“You may say all you want to say about it,” Caroline said almost peevishly. “But there comes a time when you must make up your mind or be forever getting nowhere. To my mind, it is perfectly clear. Ferdinand is the murderer who attacked our planet and nobody else. And when you think about it, who else could it be? Who else, but that venomous reptile has…” The young woman began to tick the points off on her fingers, “the motive, the resources, the manpower, the audacity – not to mention the sheer arrogance?”
“Yes indeed!” The governor was smiling. “When you put it like that, m’dear, who else could it be? What do you say, Rupert?”
The major gave a slight shrug of his shoulders. “As Lady Caroline has said there is no other person who holds such power. And if he has the motive, then perhaps…” The major nodded to himself. “Yes indeed… well possibly…”
The dark cell went quiet, each member lost in their own perceptions; each searching for some hope to still their fears.
“Could Trion be some sort of trick?” Lars broke in after a while. “Some sort of bigger plan to bargain with the queen. The hostages seem the key. Perhaps they’re to be used to further some sort of deception.”
His gaze met an audience of puzzled expressions.
“Deception?” The major’s brows stood arched like twin question marks.
“I mean, all communications are out.” Lars continued, elaborating further on his idea. “Who outside Vegar will know what’s going on?”
“Hmm! Yes, continue, Lars,” Henry Tudor encouraged.
Lars explained how he had encountered the main body of Megran troops setting up camp some distance outside the town.
“Hmm, that is strange,” the governor agreed. “It would seem more normal for the invaders, especially their officers, to bivouac in the town, commandeer the best accommodation. Most soldiers prefer a proper bed to an army field cot any day. It also has a more devastating effect on the morale of the people to have the enemy in their midst.
“What do you think, Rupert?”
“You say they are out of sight of the town?” The major queried, seeking confirmation,
“Yes,” Lars verified. “But the townsfolk will know they’re there.”
“Of course,” the intelligence officer murmured. His eyes narrowed in deliberation. He rubbed his chin thoughtfully. “Hmm, interesting – carry on with your theory, Lars. I’d like to hear what other notions you have on this.”
“Well,” Lars began again, “it just seems to me that anyone visiting the town, outsiders that is, from wherever – maybe even for example, a farm equipment salesman from another planet – could be made to believe everything was normal.
“I mean, with the Megran troopers close by, the townsfolk wouldn’t dare say a word – what with their children as hostages… Oh, and they wouldn’t want to try anything either
, like rescuing the hostages, not with the enemy right outside their door. If I’m right, it’s probably the same everywhere on the planet.”
“Hmm, perhaps.” The major appeared unconvinced. “Thank you, Lars. It’s something to think about, anyway.”
The intelligence officer returned to his vigil at the cell door. He could hear the mumbled voices of other prisoners in the jail cells up and down the dark corridor. There was no sign of the fat Megran sergeant or his men. The other prisoners sat at the small table watching him and waited. The young captain moved restlessly in his sleep and started to cough, the sound echoing harshly in the close confines of the cell.
At length the intelligence officer turned from the iron bar door and faced the group.
“I have followed your ideas,” he said quietly, “and I believe we may have hit upon some facets of the truth, but I fear there is more, much more, that we have failed to see.
“Our queen is generous to those who serve her well, but it is not in Her Majesty’s nature to be forgiving to those who abuse her trust, and Ferdinand will know this only too well.
“If he is seeking to hurt the queen, as Lady Caroline has suggested, then he is playing a perilous game, one in which there can be no turning back, and he will take no chances, and his treachery will be more devious than we can imagine.”
The intelligence officer smiled sadly at the little group before him.
“Ours would seem to be a waiting game,” he resumed, “with little chance to help the queen. But perhaps an opportunity may arise, and we should be vigilant for such an occasion.”
“A bit like pawns I guess, are we, Rupert?” Sir Henry enquired in a low voice.
“Yes governor, I’m afraid we are, but sometimes even a pawn can be useful, if played to the best advantage.”
Chapter 18
The Vegar cells
Lars stood with his hands curled around the bars of the cell door, his face pressed against their cool iron looking out into the dark of the corridor. It was early morning he guessed, though there was no way of knowing even day or night for certain. There was little to see. It was just somewhere else to look other than the four black rock walls of the cell.