Sunset in Silvana (Da'ark Nocturne Book 1)

by Paul Sims

  “Turn on the taps, then help RD,” she told Anoushka before turning to Joseph. “Right,” she said to him quietly, calmly and deliberately. “The sensation you are beginning to feel is called apnoea. I am psionically closing your windpipe. You have two choices: drop the knife and cease struggling, or wait until you lose consciousness and it happens automatically.” He gave one last heave before reluctantly complying with her instructions. “Good choice,” she said as she released his trachea. “Now keep your voice down and tell me what all this is about.”

  “That bastard!” the boy said through gritted teeth. “When I think of the way he’s treated me.”

  She was slightly taken aback. “I know he hasn’t been the best of guardians, but you’ve never attacked him before.”

  “That’s because I didn’t know who I was. He made me a slave, when he should have been my servant, if anything.”

  The penny dropped. “You know?”

  “Yes. I woke up this morning in silence and my mind was clear. So I went looking for revenge.”

  Tanya sighed. “And just what was that going to accomplish?”

  The boy looked sullenly at her for some seconds. “Satisfaction…”

  “And if your satisfaction results in us all being reprogrammed?”

  “I didn’t think of that…”

  She snorted. “Of course you didn’t. Look, do you want to go home or not?”

  He looked at her incredulously. “What do you think, you idiot!”

  “Do you want me to close your windpipe again? Permanently, perhaps?” Tanya clenched her teeth.

  “No...” He resumed his previous sour demeanour.

  “Then keep a civil tongue in your head. Now, let’s examine the possibilities – question one: do we want to escape? Quiet, that was a rhetorical question – of course we do. Question two: how do we keep our captors from reprogramming us? Answer: we give them no reason to suspect we’ve broken their conditioning. Now, if – and I repeat if – you haven’t completely screwed up our chances with this ridiculous display, we’ll have to continue our charade.”

  “Does that mean I have to slave for him?” There was an audible sneer in the boy’s tone.

  “At least enough to allay any suspicions the security men might have.” She turned to RD. While she and Joseph had been talking, Anoushka had started dressing the gash on his arm and bandaging it. “And as for you, Comrade, you’d better be careful. I know this one’s a brat, but his father is one of the Governor’s top aides.”

  “I’ll take any reprimand his dear daddy orders,” RD replied with a scowl, “when we’re safely home.”

  Tanya returned her gaze to the boy. “Let him down, Bartes. Listen, child, unless we can be certain we won’t be overheard, we use the names our captors gave us at all times. Why did you think I asked Anoushka to turn on the taps? It covers up conversation. Now, since RD, Bartes, Iain and I are all experts in this sort of thing, you’ll obey any instructions we give you instantly and without questioning – understand?”

  “I suppose. Even Anna? She’s just a secretary.”

  Tanya gritted her teeth again, and somehow stopped herself from hitting the boy. “She’s worth a dozen of you, boy. True, this is all new to her, but so far she’s coping remarkably well. If you want to survive to get home, I’d remember that we’re your only ticket back. If you aggravate us too much, we could dispose of you and simply blame it on our captors if – when – we get home.”

  As Joseph stamped off to his room, his fists balled, RD’s gaze fell to the floor and his brow furrowed. Catching Tanya’s eye, he pointed silently to where a bottle of cooking oil had fallen and spilt during the fracas.

  If he’s expecting me to clear it up, he’s got another think coming, she thought, but then she realised what he was trying to show her. There was an area of tiles about a metre square that the oil hadn’t covered: it was apparently seeping down cracks on all four sides. She raised an eyebrow at RD and nodded. The floor here wasn’t solid. This could be an access hatch.

  After breakfast, which was quiet and rather strained, Tanya decided to check the drug components she’d brought from the Medical Centre. Although one or two vials had been damaged in the previous day’s crash, most had survived intact. It was her turn to wash up, and as she did so, she checked the kitchen thoroughly for surveillance devices, but found nothing more than the microphone and mini-cam she’d already noticed. She set up her equipment out of sight of the camera and started making up a number of doses of a basic combat drug.

  She was part way through the synthesising process when there was a shout from outside. A group of locals had driven up in a lorry with some fresh vegetables for sale. She emerged, only to stop dead in her tracks: one of the “locals” was Maria, and some of the others looked familiar. As she passed Tanya a basket of cabbages, the latter asked her quietly, “How’s your chin?”

  The girl smiled ruefully. “A bit sore,” she whispered, “But your friend’s blow did no real harm.”

  “Good.” Tanya grinned back. “Why are you here?”

  “Well, we checked your blood, and you’re right: you’re not from this planet, or from the Dainworlds. Your colleague is from the Terran Union, but as for you, your blood is – different.”

  “What do you mean?” Tanya asked.

  “They wouldn’t tell me,” she continued. “Anyway, Martje and the others were still suspicious, and they decided to take no risk and finish the job – they planned to do it this morning, despite your guards.” Tanya looked around in sudden panic, but saw nothing untoward. “Don’t worry. Something must have happened overnight – I don’t know what – and this morning our leader told us we had to help you rather than kill you. So we’ve sent word to our people to halt all assassination attempts, and we’ve brought you a few weapons to help you escape. You’ll find them in the bottom of the baskets.”

  Tanya breathed a sigh of relief. “Thank you. You’re taking a bit of a risk.” With a slight nod of the head she indicated the security guards, who were looking on suspiciously with their fingers on their triggers.

  Maria shrugged. “Our friends are covering us from the trees – and anyway, something about what you said yesterday made me think you’re in a lot more trouble than we are.”

  “Is there anything you can do to help us get away?”

  “No – we have our own problems, and limited resources – and although we know you’re not the traitors we thought, we still don’t know who you really are.”

  “We’re…”

  “And we really don’t want to know. So I’m afraid you’re on your own. Good luck.” Tanya thanked her as she paid her a suitable amount for the vegetables. With that, the girl and her companions drove away with a cheery wave and Tanya returned to the kitchen.

  Once she completed her task, Tanya concealed the drug in her medical kit and found RD, who was tinkering with his boat. “Those villagers that came with vegetables this morning were members of one of the rebel groups,” she told him, “the ones that nearly killed us up in the mountains. We’ve been able to persuade them that we aren’t their enemies, and they’ve provided us with some weapons to aid our escape.”

  “That’s very altruistic of them,” he said suspiciously.

  “Not really – any attempt we make to flee will draw attention away from their activities.”

  “I suppose that makes sense…”

  “Anyway, the weapons are hidden in the baskets of vegetables we bought, but I’m not sure how we’re going to transport them to Lake Kuraken. There’s also Bartes’ precious laser carbine. We might be able to hide some things among our baggage, but it would be better if we could cache everything on your boat, so they’ll be there already if we try to escape across the lake.”

  “Hmm,” he said. “Leave it to me. I’ll need your help, Josef.”

  “Why?” The boy glared at him.

  “There are some places we could hide the weapons which are unlikely to be searched. I can’t reach the
m, but someone smaller, like you, can.”

  There was a short pause before Joseph replied. “All right,” he muttered.

  “You and the others pack your bags, and we’ll stash them on the boat for the trip,” RD told Tanya. “That’ll help conceal the contraband.”

  They had just finished loading the boat when a helicopter gunship arrived to take them to the Tangled Comet for lunch. The flight was quiet and tense. Anoushka was looking worried, so Tanya swapped seats with Bartes so she could sit next to her. “Relax,” She said in an undertone as she put her arm about her friend. “It’ll be all right – you’ll see.”

  “What if we’re attacked again?”

  “I don’t think it’s likely, but if we are, we’ll manage somehow. Look, Anoushka, I stood up for you in front of young Joseph this morning. I said you were worth a dozen of him, and I meant it – please don’t let me down.”

  Anoushka took a deep breath and squared her shoulders. “You’re right,” she said, “I can’t afford to go to pieces. I know I’m not as prepared for situations like this as the rest of you, but at the very least I can’t – I mustn’t – be a liability.” She gave Tanya a wan smile.

  “Good girl.” Tanya squeezed her friend’s arm. “Just leave things to the professionals, and we should be all right. And if anything does happen, take cover until it’s been dealt with.”

  When they landed at the Comet, their guards disembarked first and established a protective perimeter. Major Valentine had been as good as his word, and the place was crawling with security personnel. He greeted them at the door. “I’ve prepared a special table for you, my friends. Please follow me.”

  “Sorry, Major – I’ll be needed in the kitchen. It is my restaurant, after all. Come along, Josef.”

  Joseph opened his mouth to complain, but Tanya’s glare silenced him; he balled his fists and followed RD.

  To Tanya’s surprise and delight, Sophie and her tame general were sat at the next table. She was wearing a pure white cotton dress, simple and elegant, and looked radiant. “Comrade General, Comrade Mikova,” Tanya greeted them, “Do you know Major Drovsorsky, our security liaison?”

  “I do,” the General said, “Good afternoon, Comrade Major.”

  “Sir.” The Major saluted.

  “No need for too much formality, Valentine, we’re all friends here. Have you met Sophie Mikova, the ballerina?”

  “I don’t believe so…” Valentine’s brow furrowed, then cleared as he took and kissed the lady’s hand. She gave him a strange look in return, and smiled back.

  “Sophie is staying with me at my dacha for the holiday.”

  “And these are my companions, Boris, Ivan and Anoushka,” Tanya interjected.

  “I’m so pleased to meet you, Comrades.” Sophie’s smile was dazzling.

  They sat and made small talk as their orders were taken, and they ate their entrées and their main courses. After Tanya had finished her pluny en croute, she had an idea. “I’m just going to freshen up,” she said, and raised an eyebrow in Sophie’s direction.

  “I’ll join you,” Sophie said, taking her hint.

  Once they had their voices covered by the sound of running water, they began to confer. “How are things going?” Sophie asked.

  “Well,” Tanya began, but at that point one of the other diners, a reporter for The Silvanan Times, entered the rest room and interrupted them.

  “Comrade Milanova, may I have a moment of your time?” she asked.

  Tanya frowned. “Not now,” she replied. “Can’t you see I’m talking to a friend?”

  “Very well, I’ll try again later.” The reporter didn’t leave, however, but began a leisurely survey of her make-up, clearly hoping, as all of her profession do, to overhear something interesting.

  :Let’s communicate psionically while we chat about innocuous things.: Sophie sent.

  Tanya looked round nervously. :Aren’t you frightened we’ll be caught with all the ‘sniffers’ round?:

  :Not really.: Sophie seemed supremely confident. :They can detect the use of psionics, but none of them are good enough to eavesdrop. I’ve finished with this persona, anyway – and I can handle anything they can do.:

  :I guess. Well, if you’re so positive…:

  :I am.:

  :We’ve all broken our conditioning to a large degree – although I now have a confusingly large number of different sets of memories vying for my attention – and we need to get off this planet. We believe that we are being impersonated back on Regni, and that whoever is doing it intends to cause some sort of catastrophe.:

  :You could be right: I’m in regular contact with Regni, and I didn’t even know you were here until I arrived a few days ago and if they thought you were missing, I’d have heard something.:

  :And nothing’s happened to the Governor?:

  :Not that I’m aware of.:

  :Then it may not be too late if we can escape. Can you do anything to help us?:

  :I’d like to, but I’ve got my own mission here…:

  :…to stop the war. I’m aware of that, but surely there’s something you can do?:

  :Let me think a minute.:

  :While you’re thinking, have you any idea why everybody is suddenly trying to kill us?:

  :Yes. Have you ever seen a copy of The Free Silvanan?:

  :That scurrilous rag? Once or twice.:

  :Well, let me show you the front page of the latest issue.: A picture formed in Tanya’s mind: under a banner headline of HEROES – OR VILLAINS? there was a cartoon that displayed a perversion of the first day cover recently issued to commemorate Pregeor. It showed a group of dead and dying women and children under a mushroom cloud, and overlooking the carnage were unflattering distortions of the stamps representing Tanya and her fellow Heroes. These vile caricatures seemed to indicate their pleasure in the carnage illustrated below. Tanya’s image, with its devil horns, vampiric teeth and salacious grin, was particularly horrible.

  :Why now, after all this time? I don’t think we were even there.:

  :You weren’t – but the government has associated your names with the tragedy. Something happened at Pregeor – something pretty horrendous that I won’t burden you with at the moment. The government gave orders that the city be destroyed in order to prevent it spreading further. They blamed Telphania, and the resistance believed them, and broke off relations with their allies across the border. Last week, though, someone leaked evidence of what really happened to the Telphanians, and they wasted no time in presenting this to the resistance in hope of re-establishing their alliance. That put you at the top of everyone’s hit list – and the newspaper article gives anyone who lost friends or family at Pregeor a reason to hate – and perhaps try to kill – you.:

  :We have to get away before one of those assassination attempts succeeds. Have you thought of anything to help us escape?:

  :If you could get to Telphania…:

  :But the Telphanians think that we’re Heroes of Pregeor. We’d end up being arrested, and put on trial. Even if we could persuade them that we’re not who they think we are, I can’t see them just letting us go…:

  :I’m here with blessing of the Telphanian government, and I’ve already sent their people a message to inform them of your real identities, via my contacts in the Silvanan Free Army.:

  :So you’re the reason Maria and her friends didn’t follow up on their threat to kill us. I thought it might be your doing.:

  :Guilty as charged. They’re useful allies. If you can get to Brogovel Shuttle Port, there may be a way off planet. Find a contact of mine called Dick Haraldson, who works for Merrywine Intoxicants and say, ‘For Mercy’s sake, I need a crate of Regnian Ale’. He should be able to help you.:

  :Can you at least tell me who I really am? I’m feeling very disoriented.:

  There was a pause. :No – I think not. Your life is confusing enough as it is, and I think you’re going to have to act quickly and decisively very soon. I don’t want to make things ha
rder for you. Just concentrate on being Tanya Miller for now. It’ll come back to you in its own time. Trust your mind – it knows what’s best for you. Now let’s get back to your companions. Don’t worry – I’ll keep in contact…:

  :But how?:

  Sophie gave a knowing smile. :Never mind. If you do manage to escape, head east and I’ll do what I can to help. If not, I’ll come for you when my mission is completed. Oh, by the way, be wary of Valentine.:

  :Why?:

  :I’ve met him before, elsewhere. He’s not what he seems.:

  :I can tell he’s psionic.:

  :Yes, and he’s no more a native of this planet than you and I are.:

  :Is he the one that kidnapped us?:

  :Possibly, but I don’t think it was his idea.:

  Tanya frowned. :I get the feeling he wants us to escape.:

  :If he does, I doubt it’s for your sake. No, he has some sort of agenda of his own – opposed to that of his mistress.:

  :His mistress?:

  :The one pulling his strings. She’s the one responsible for your abduction. But I don’t think she quite realises the determination of her puppet to have his own way.:

  :So he might be on our side.:

  :Possibly – for the moment – but I wouldn’t trust him: things can change in an instant, and he wouldn’t hesitate to sacrifice all of you, either for his own purposes, or because his mistress commands it. He might regret it, but he’ll do it – just like you or I would.:

  :Am I really like that?:

  Sophie gave a sad smile. :’Fraid so – circumstances sometimes force people like us to make uncomfortable decisions. Now let’s get back to your friends.:

  Sophie and Tanya made their way back to their seats, and as they began to eat their desserts, there was a commotion outside. A cocky-looking security lieutenant, accompanied by six subordinates, pushed his way into the room and announced in a loud voice: “I’m sorry to disturb your meal, Comrades, but we’re searching for a dangerous off-world fugitive.” His team spread around the room and started looking around intently, and Tanya felt a significant increase in background psionic energy. She guessed they’d detected Sophie and her ‘conversation’, and that things were about to get ugly.