by Alix Nichols
“I’ll be fine,” he said with a feigned nonchalance. “How long do you need to pack?”
“No more than an hour.”
“Get started, then.” He headed for the door. “I’ll tell Mother to pack, too. Then I’ll make some calls and be back.”
“I’ll be ready.”
He opened the door. “Oh and wear your maid disguise with the bonnet and everything.”
She nodded.
When Jancel returned to her room thirty minutes later, Nyssa had the first suitcase packed, and was almost done with the second.
“Can I take two suitcases?” she asked. “No worries if I can’t—one will be enough for the most important stuff.” She pointed to the inhibitor pills he’d gotten his hands on shortly after the cosh tea episode. “Including those, for when you visit.”
He smiled. “You can take two suitcases. You’ll need all your clothes, shoes, and personal items—there are no shops where I’m taking you.”
She fixed her gaze on him. “Where are you taking me?”
“To the West Rocks.”
“But that’s…” She raked her hands through her hair, held it back for a moment, and then released it. “That’s outside the Habitable Area. The West Rocks are in the contaminated zone.”
“Kitten, it’s the safest place to hide.” He took her in his arms and stroked her hair. “You won’t get any radiation, I promise.”
She rubbed her arms.
“I’ll explain more, when I catch up with you, Mother, and Timm in the Royal Woods,” he said.
“Timm?”
“He’s fetching a farmer’s cart to the back entrance.” Jancel gave her hand a squeeze. “I’ll sneak out separately and find you in the woods.”
Her chest rose and fell in a long, heavy sigh. “All right.”
“Iyatt will be up in the trees with his night vision blaster,” he said, hoping to reassure her a little more. “He’ll warn me if he spots anyone tailing us. And he’ll shoot, if he must.”
The next hour was a flurry of destroying sensitive files, sticking others into a big backpack, placing calls, and changing into Memeen’s clothes. His manservant was to take care of a few less urgent things after Jancel was gone in case the special unit showed up before Jancel got back from the contaminated zone.
Mother had finished packing, and was giving instructions to the housekeeper in the entryway when Nyssa came down with one of her suitcases.
Jancel fetched the other one. “Ladies, have a pleasant trip.”
He didn’t hug them, didn’t say goodbye. Nyssa was nervous enough. There was no point adding to her distress. As there was no need for formal leave-taking. Jancel was going to see them again in less than two hours.
And he did.
His hike to their meeting point at the edge of the Royal Woods had turned out smoother than he’d feared, and as smooth as Timm’s was with Mother and Nyssa in his cart. Said cart was now locked away with the horse in a roadside shed.
Timm glanced at the motorized vehicle that he’d taken out of its half-buried, camouflaged garage near their meeting place. “I suggest everyone suit up before we zoom to Mandell Rock.”
Mother pointed to the vehicle. “How long will it take us to get there in that contraption?”
“Thirty minutes to the contaminated zone and another ten to the facility,” Timm said.
Jancel’s wiped his mouth. “Unless Timm suffers a stroke if we keep him away from his expensive new toy and the million-drinar space suites in it much longer.”
“That toy is the fruit of a full year of blood, sweat, and tears.”
Jancel’s smile widened. “Forging ID papers.”
“Don’t forget the bootlegging,” Timm said with pride.
Nyssa’s voice was warm when she added, “And getting Areg to safety.”
“I just flapped my wings and actioned a booster for a few hours and got paid handsomely for it.” Timm pointed to Jancel. “He did the hard work—for free.”
Jancel glanced at Nyssa as his ears warmed. She looked at him, open-faced with eyes dark and bright at the same time. Even in the middle of an orgasm or in one of their emotional moments after she took cosh tea, there had always been a hint of resentment or reservation in her beautiful eyes. They held none now.
He turned away quickly before she had a chance to say something.
As everyone geared up, Mother and Nyssa complained how big and uncomfortable their space suits were.
“It’s a matter of getting used to them,” Timm said.
The vehicle hurtled them to the Mandell Rock Facility, a fallout shelter carved out of solid granite. Jancel and Iyatt called it “the Refuge.”
When Timm’s vehicle pulled over at the base of the southern slope of the mountain, Jancel led the women past the open blast door to a second door, just as solid but not as thick. He unlocked it from the outside, keying in a code. Timm joined the group. They took turns rinsing off the dust from the suits in a small chamber branching off from the main tunnel. Then they removed the suits and went in.
“We have one suit on the premises,” Timm said. “I’ll leave one more here, so both of you can get out if you need to. Please take good care of them.”
Nyssa nodded absently, taking in her surroundings, wide-eyed.
Mother walked forward, unfazed. Then again, it would take more than donning a space suit and moving into an unsuspected radiation shelter to shake Mother up.
They entered the main chamber. Timm and Jancel did their best to explain how the place worked, where food and fuel were stored, how to get to the fresh spring water inside the rock, and what not to do.
“I need to take notes,” Nyssa said. “It’s a lot to remember.”
Jancel grabbed his backpack, took her hand, and led her to a small room with basic furniture and a bunk bed. “I sleep here when I stay over.”
“Can I squat in this room?”
“It will be an honor.” He opened the closet that was empty except for a shelf with his clothes. “All yours.”
“When will you be back?”
“Soon,” he said, unwilling to be more specific. “But Iyatt will come by tomorrow. He’ll give you a proper tour and answer all your questions.”
Nyssa furrowed her brow. “Who else knows about this place?”
“Until a year ago, just me and Iyatt,” Jancel said. “We knew about it, but we’d never set foot here. It was impossible. When Governor Iorasu and Ambassador Sebi died in quick succession, and Boggond became caretaker governor, I started thinking maybe we should find a way. When Boggond appointed Ultek police chief, I reached out to Timm, who, as it turned out, had a spacesuit for rent.”
“So, that’s how he fits into the picture.”
Jancel nodded. “Iyatt and I took turns coming here and making repairs. Timm procured the equipment we needed, new filters for the ventilation valves, all sorts of stuff.”
Nyssa furrowed her brow, calculating. “Seeing as the facility had to be built over two hundred years ago before the Cataclysm, your repairs must have been extensive.”
“Quite. We also cleaned the pipes and sewers, removed the top layer of soil and all the vegetation around the entrance to get rid of the fallout collected there…” He smiled. “It was a lot of work for two men.”
“You could’ve gotten help.”
Jancel sat down on the bunk bed and opened his backpack. “Do you know why until recently I was the only person in Eia informed about this facility?”
“Something to do with you being commander in chief of the army?”
“Smart girl.” He grinned before pulling a think binder out of his backpack. “I’ll leave this here, with you.”
“What is it?”
“The notes you wanted.” He touched the tips of his fingers to her adorably slacked mouth. “This binder contains everything on the Mandell Rock Facility and three other facilities located deeper in the contaminated zone. Maps, floor plans, maintenance instructions.”
S
he sat down next to him, set the binder on her knees and opened it. Its vellum was special, thicker, and more durable than the flimsy paper of regular books. The first page read, Confidential. For the commander in chief’s eyes only.
Nyssa gave him an uncertain glance, not daring flip to the next page.
“I trust you as much as I trust Iyatt and Timm,” he said. “Possibly, more.”
She turned the page. “Four atomic shelters… Who knew?”
“One for each of the four regions of the pre-Cataclysm Eia.”
“That makes sense.”
“Since the Cataclysm, only the commander of the army knew about their existence. This binder has been passed from one commander to the next for over two hundred years.”
“Governors had no idea?”
“The ones shortly after the Cataclysm must have known, but the subsequent ones lost the information. So did the royals.”
“Why didn’t the commanders tell them?”
Jancel sighed. “They believed that informing officials and the public would only cause frustration. The shelters had become inaccessible without the radiation suits, which had gotten too worn for use.”
“Hmm.”
“Besides, fusion bombs and power plants had been scrubbed throughout Xereill since the establishment of LOR, so these shelters became unnecessary.”
She gave him a long, unflinching stare. “You brought this binder here because you no longer think it’s safe to keep it in your house or in your office.”
His wildcat was too perceptive for her own good.
“I need to go,” he said, glancing at his watch. “Timm is eager to get back to the Royal Woods and hide his vehicle before daybreak.”
Nyssa dropped her head to her chest.
“It’s going to be all right, kitten.” He took her in his arms. “You won’t stay here forever. Only as long as Areg needs to find a way to get you off Hente.”
“Areg?” She planted her palms on his chest and drew back. “Not you?”
Jancel searched her face. Inside him, a fierce need to shield her from anything that would upset her battled against reason. Which demanded he give her a heads-up so she could brace herself. Reason won.
“I may not be in a position to do that,” he said.
“You mean you may be dead.”
“I’ll do everything in my power to avoid that outcome.” He forced himself to smile before letting go of her. “Take good care of yourself, kitten.”
When he reached the door, Nyssa’s voice made him turn around. “Wait! I need to tell you something before you go.”
Jancel looked at his watch again. Timm must be pacing up and down the tunnel.
He lifted his gaze to Nyssa. “Only if it’s really quick. Otherwise it’ll have to wait until later.”
“I love you,” she said on a single breath.
His jaw slackened.
She lowered her gaze to the binder and pointed to the door. “You can go now.”
25
The sky was beginning to lighten when Jancel saw his house in the distance. It looked peaceful, sleepy.
He snuck in through the back door and headed straight to his room, hoping to catch some sleep. Except he was too awake, excited in a way he hadn’t felt since Hawina. He felt like he was twenty again.
Two hours later, Jancel gave up on trying to find sleep. He washed, got dressed again, and went downstairs to brew some kawa and read the Iltaqa Gazette.
Memeen and the housekeeper would be up in about an hour when they could talk and make more plans.
The front doorbell rang.
He went to the door. Looking through the peephole, he saw four armed cops in special unit uniforms. Strangely, he felt relieved.
The army’s and Eia’s future still looked grim—even grimmer than before, now that Ultek would take Jancel’s place. But Jancel was going to push those concerns to the back of his mind and fight for himself.
Despite what he’d said to Iyatt, his instincts and experience had been in agreement with his friend’s hunch. The special unit was coming for Jancel—not someone else. He’d prepared himself. Aware of their methods, he’d planned for this.
He’d been waiting.
“State your business,” he said without opening the door.
“We are here to accompany Commander Heidd to Orogate for an emergency meeting at Government House.” One of the men stepped forward. “Open please.”
Jancel did so, not that he’d believed a word of it.
The men shuffled back, visibly surprised to see him open the door in person.
“Commander Heidd.” The cop who’d spoken earlier stepped forward. “You are under arrest.”
“On whose orders?”
“Chief Ultek’s.”
“Deciding to arrest the commander of the army is above your boss’s pay grade.” He stared the policeman down. “You must have a letter from a judge countersigned by the caretaker governor. It’s protocol.”
The man pushed his shoulders back. “The special unit doesn’t follow protocols.”
Must be Qur.
“Fine.” Jancel fished his commlet out of his pocket. “I’m pinging Lord Boggond. He can confirm orally that he’s green-lighted my arrest.”
Qur pointed his blaster at Jancel’s chest. “You’re pinging no one, Commander. Chief Ultek was clear on that.”
The other three policemen raised their weapons and took aim.
Jancel and Qur glared at each other for a moment.
“We can shoot you right here on your doorstep,” Qur said. “Or we can take you someplace quiet and grant you the dignity of burning to death away from your mother’s eyes. It’s your choice.”
“What are my charges?”
Qur lowered his blaster and held out his other arm, palm open. “Give me your commlet, and I’ll tell you.”
Jancel handed him the device.
Qur dropped it to the ground and stomped on it. “I hate doing this but orders are orders.” He glanced up at Jancel. “By ‘doing it’ I meant destroying a commlet, not killing you. Just so we’re clear.”
After that, the men searched Jancel. They took his pistol and dagger and tied his hands behind his back.
Qur motioned to the vehicle. “After you.”
Twisting his bound arms, Jancel pulled the house door behind him shut and descended the steps.
They got into the police vehicle with Jancel sandwiched between two cops. They didn’t drive toward Iltaqa Prison. Not even in the direction of Ultek’s residence. They drove to the woods.
“Here’s something to cheer you up,” Qur said as the lights of Orogate disappeared from view, “your old mother will be spared.”
Jancel kept his gaze fixed on the landscape outside.
Qur tittered. “Not your captive, though. Once we’re done with you, we’re going back to take her to Chief Ultek.”
Twenty minutes later, the cops stopped the vehicle and marched Jancel to a small clearing surrounded by pine trees, not unlike the one where he and Iyatt trained.
“On your knees,” Qur said to Jancel, “with your back to that tree.”
Jancel knelt.
The four cops lined up a short distance away, facing him. They raised their blasters.
“You promised to tell me what I’m accused of,” Jancel said.
Wringing his hands behind his back, he slid the ultra slim throwing knives down the seams of his sleeves that served as sheaths.
“I did.” Qur sneered. “But I’m going to break that promise. Just like you broke yours ten years ago.”
“What are you talking about?”
Freeing one sharp tip, he deftly sliced the ties around his wrists.
“You don’t even recognize me, do you?” Qur’s nostrils flared. “Back when you were a mere captain, I was a private under your command. My sergeant wanted me dishonorably discharged. I appealed to you. You promised to look into it. I bet you never did.”
“What was your offense?” Jancel ask
ed as he assessed the distance to each cop, the force of the wind, and its direction.
Qur shrugged. “A bit of rookie hazing. I just chased a new guy around the base.”
“With a longbow,” another cop added, and the four of them guffawed.
“I remember.” Jancel stared into Qur’s eyes. “You actually shot at him. You put an arrow in his side. He had to be taken to the nearby Healers’ hospital.”
Qur bristled. “I didn’t intend to wound him. It was an accident.”
“I did look into your case, and I determined that your sergeant was correct,” Jancel said, visualizing every detail of what was about to happen, including his mark on each man, the sequence, and the number of spins.
“The day I was discharged, I swore I’d make you and Sergeant Woxim pay,” Qur said.
Every nerve ending, every muscle, every sense of Jancel’s was ready. His fingers tingled, preparing to give the blades the kinetic energy they needed to kill on impact.
“It’s Major Woxim now,” he said.
“Don’t I know that?” Qur snarled. “His turn will come. But you—you’re going down today.”
Four knives flew from Jancel’s hands. They sliced through the air and hurtled with pinpoint accuracy toward vital areas of the cops’ bodies.
“I believe it’s you who’s going down today,” Jancel said quietly.
Each of the knives found its target.
One of them sliced Qur’s jugular. Blood gushed from his throat as he made strangled noises and fell to the ground at the same time as his three cronies.
Jancel pictured Hommendis, his “shady” teacher on Norbal, patting his back.
Nice choreography, he’d say. Didn’t I tell you practice makes perfect?
His shoulders relaxing with relief, Jancel stood up and went to the bodies. He retrieved his throwing knives, pistol, and dagger. Then he picked up the cops’ blasters.
They were heavy and Jancel had a long hike ahead of him, but he couldn’t bring himself to leave even one behind. He was going rogue. Or rather, “doing the right thing, finally,” as Nyssa would no doubt say.
A very different life awaited him.
In that life, he wouldn’t turn up his nose at four plasma blasters—the latest model—if he wanted to survive and protect the ones he cared for.