by Paul Sims
She helped RD and Peter gather some fallen pine branches and lay out Anoushka’s body on them: she coldly efficient, the others both weeping openly. Iain and Bartes could only watch in solemn silence. They gathered around the pyre.
“Does anyone want to say anything?” Tanya looked around the others, but one by one they shook their heads. “Very well. I know how you’re all feeling and – if I were myself – I couldn’t find any words, either. As it is, though…” She closed her eyes. “Dear Lord, we ask you to receive the soul of our dear friend and companion, Anoushka. There is no greater testimony to her love than she gave her life for another. Please welcome her into your arms. We will miss her, and pray that we will all one day meet again in your presence.”
They ignited the pyre, stood for a moment watching the flames take hold, and set off eastwards again. They trudged downhill through the pinewoods, along the side of the burgeoning stream, until night fell, and sought shelter in a thicket.
In the early hours of the morning, Bartes was disturbed by someone laying down beside him. He blinked himself awake and in the moonlight he could see the tears running down Tanya’s cheeks. She didn’t have to say anything. He put his arm around her and held her as her shoulders heaved.
As if in sympathy, a steady, unrelenting rain began. The trees were scant cover, and it seemed an age before the Eastern sky was tinged with a paler shade of grey. “We’d better move on,” Bartes said.
“What’s the point?” Tanya’s voice was nearly inaudible.
“We have to get back to Regni – people are depending on us.”
“Like Anoushka did?” Sorrow and anger fought for control of her face.
“Yes.” He sighed. “But she was only one person.”
“You bastard!” She pushed him away.
“That’s it – let it out.” He caught her wrists and held them firmly. “Look, I know you blame yourself, but you did all you could.”
“There must have been something more.” Her body went limp. “It’s happened again. I’ve b-been given these abilities, but when I need them most – they fail me.”
“There’ll be time to talk about all this later, but for now we must get moving.”
“You’re right.” Tanya shook herself and sighed. “Can you walk? How’s your ankle?”
“Improving. The cat’s been doing all she could, and she’s been showing me how to use my own talents to regenerate the damaged tissue.”
“I’m sorry. I’ve been so turned in on my own misery, when I should have been helping you and Iain.”
“Well, I can put a little weight on the injured leg, and with a stick, I should be able to make reasonable time. This’ll do.” He picked up a nearby fallen branch, shaped it with a few deft strokes of his combat knife, and lifted himself to his feet.
Nobody wanted breakfast, so they were soon stumbling on through the trees under overcast skies in their individual cocoons of misery, putting one foot in front of the other, hardly noticing their surroundings. They paused several times by what was now becoming a small river for a brief rest and some food, but nobody ate a great deal. They spent another miserable night, huddled together in what shelter they could find.
By late afternoon of the next day, the rain had stopped, though the canopy still dripped water down their necks. Suddenly, Bartes, who was leading, raised his hand. “I can see something through the trees,” he said. “Wait here.”
They slumped wearily to the turf, too tired and wet to care where they sat.
Bartes was back after a few minutes. “That fence we saw from the mountains is just ahead,” he said. “There are a couple of wooden towers just this side of it – the one on the left is quite close, but the one on the right is several miles away. They look like they’ve been built recently, and in a hurry.”
“To watch for us?” Iain asked.
“Possibly – or maybe just because of cross-border tensions,” Bartes said.
“What’s on the other side of the wire?”
“A broad strip of ground that looks barren and scorched. I’d reckon it’s so the Telphanians could watch for anyone coming from this side, but I didn’t see any buildings over there. We’d better move round to the right till we’re about equidistant from the towers, and make a run for it after dark.”
They moved as quietly as they could for a mile or so through the woods, and Bartes was about to call a halt, when a voice said, “I thought there were more of you.”
They grasped for their weapons and looked around frantically. On their left, leaning against a tree with his arms folded, was a tall, lean man. “You won’t need those,” he said. “I’m Sub-Major Gilbert of Telphanian security, and I’ve been sent here to retrieve you.”
RD pointed his rifle at the newcomer, but Bartes pushed it aside. “I’d like to believe you,” he said, “but we’ve been let down and betrayed so much that it’s not easy. Have you any proof?”
The Sub-Major shrugged. “I could hardly come across the border in uniform – and to carry Telphanian papers would be suicide.”
“I wouldn’t have trusted any of that, anyway,” RD replied. “We’ve been fooled once too often.”
“I do have this.” He reached into his pocket. “It’s for one of your group – Tanya?”
Tanya snatched the paper and scanned it. Her eyes filled with tears and she crumpled the note and thrust it into Bartes’ hands before turning away.
Bartes straightened out the note. With a catch in his voice he read it aloud. “I’m looking forward to our girls’ night out – the three of us will paint Brogovel red! S.”. He sighed. “Well, that’s good enough for me.” He turned to the Sub-Major. “We left one of our team behind, to escape by another route – so as not to put all our eggs in one basket – and two didn’t make it. A few days back, one of them had a fatal accident – and the other was killed by some sort of hideous creature, just when we started believing we were going to escape...”
The Telphanian sensed their sombre mood. “I’m sorry,” he said.
“Well, if you can get us into Telphania, you have my vote of confidence,” Iain said. “How do we get across the border?”
“That barren strip of land just ahead is the border,” the Sub-Major said, “but you can’t just walk across it – there are satellites in orbit whose task is to detect and destroy anything much bigger than a squirrel that tries to cross it. The satellites are ours – Mercy provided them to help protect Telphania from being invaded. I have a transponder which gives off a signal that prevents me, and those with me, from being targeted.”
“How did you get across without being spotted?” Bartes asked. “And how did you know where we would be anyway.”
“As for that, your friend Sophie – the one who gave me the note – told us. And I crossed last night, by way of the culvert this river runs through. I was lucky – with the sky overcast, it was very dark, and the cold water prevented them from seeing me on infra-red.”
“Could we get out the same way?” Iain asked.
“No – I could only manage to bring the camouflaged wet suit I wore and a single re-breather. And anyway, the sky’s clear again, and we couldn’t hide from the ringlight while we crossed the ground to the culvert. We’re bound to be seen, but hopefully, if we move quickly, we can be across and into the trees before the enemy can react.”
They waited till the sun had fully set and, in the blue-grey light of the rings, the Sub-Major led them along the fence to a hole in the wire. They scrambled through one by one and waded through the intervening bushes as quickly as they could, then the Sub-Major switched on the transponder and they stepped out onto the strip.
Before they’d gone more than a dozen paces, their silhouettes were projected in front of them by a bright light, several spurts of dust flew up, and an amplified voice said, “That’s far enough.”
They turned, and through the glare of the spotlight, Tanya could just make out the shape of a helicopter. She muttered a very unladylike expletive. �
�Another bloody helicopter!”
“Dammit!” Bartes said. “They must have been in the air already, patrolling the border.”
“Stay right where you are until we can retrieve you,” the voice said.
“I can see movement from the tower on the left,” Iain said.
“And from the one on the right,” RD added.
Tanya turned to Bartes. :I’m not going back,: she sent.
The look in her eyes sent shivers down his spine. :What are you going to do?:
:What I do best. I failed Anoushka, but I won’t fail you. Warn the others to be ready to run while I distract the enemy. Do it psionically – RD can bitch about it later. I’ve got to prepare myself.:
He did as she bade him, and then sent to her, :What exactly do you mean?:
Her answering grin was barely sane. :You remember that drug dispenser I’ve got embedded in my thigh?:
:After the other day, how could I forget?:
:There’s a special mixture of drugs in there which will give me the ability to do things the enemy won’t be prepared for.:
:There’s something you aren’t telling me, isn’t there?:
Tanya shrugged. :It puts a massive strain on the body. There’s a chance I won’t survive.:
:What sort of chance?:
:Oh, upwards of 90%. Now run as soon as the spotlight swings away.: She disappeared, and there came twin screams from the direction of the helicopter. True to Tanya’s prediction, the spotlight swung back towards the fence. The ’copter’s mini-gun started firing, but not at the fugitives – at the troops from the tower.
-------------------------------------------
As soon as Tanya was ready, she mentally triggered her pharmacopoeia. :Black, black, zero, zero, black,: she sent deliberately. :Authorisation: extreme prejudice.: She shivered as the drug cocktail coursed through her bloodstream. That should do it: level 4 blur – 16 times normal speed, and freedom from natural self-preservation restraints. She instantaneously teleported into the helicopter’s cockpit. So this is what it feels like to be invincible. It doesn’t seem that different – though everything else seems to hardly be moving – and I can’t remember my senses ever being so intense.
She pushed at the gunner on her left and felt his ribs cave in under the force of her blow as he began to slowly topple out of the door. Pain lanced up her arm and she glanced down at her mangled hand.
Careful, Tanya, at the speed you’re moving, your hand could have disintegrated. It’s lucky you’ve got energy to spare. She moved the bones back into position, concentrated for a subjective second and her hand was whole again.
The push she gave to the pilot was more circumspect, but enough to lift him out of his seat and start him on his ponderous way toward the ground, still clutching his microphone.
Tanya swung the joystick to the left, and slowly but inexorably the aircraft slewed sideways. I should have brought a book, she thought as she waited for the fuselage to swing round. After an apparent age, her friends were no longer illuminated.
:Fly, you fools!: she sent them. She giggled, and shook herself. Don’t get carried away, you idiot – you’ve still got a job to do. She steadied the joystick, aimed the mini-gun at the oncoming troops, pulled the trigger and locked it.
Before the first bullet had left the gun, she had teleported to the ground. That’s funny, my clothes have stretched. Looking down, she saw that her skin, as well as her costume, hung loosely on her. I should have remembered – my fat reserves are almost exhausted. This is an effective way to lose weight – though it’s a bit of a drastic solution. I’d better get moving while I still can. If I can just disable the other troops while my heart’s still beating…
The soldiers under fire from the helicopter were beginning to dive for cover, so she zigzagged among the troops coming from the other direction, delivering incapacitating blows wherever she could. This feels more like swimming than running. It must be the increased wind resistance – after all I am moving at a couple of hundred miles an hour.
Her dance of mayhem was complete before her first victim hit the ground. She looked down at her body, her vision blurring and her heartbeat faltering. She was drenched in sweat and realised that, since she couldn’t disperse the heat she was generating fast enough, her core temperature was far too high and her organs were failing.
She could see that her friends were most of the way across the strip, and could tell that, as the drugs were beginning to fail, her speed advantage was dwindling. I’m probably too far from the Sub-Major’s transponder for it to protect me, she thought. Let’s see if I can outrun those satellites…
She launched herself across the strip. She was barely half-way across when there was a concussion and a blast of heat behind her and she felt the skin on her left heel blister. Her last conscious act was to hurl herself through the air towards the trees.
This book is dedicated to Sue Sims, Paul’s wife and one of the best friends you could ever hope to have. She also, with great patience, corrected some of the more interesting deviations from Standard English that we committed as well as copy editing the book.
We would also like to thank, in no particular order, Howard, Neil, Julian, Bob, and Jonathan who helped develop the story and the characters.
About the Authors
Paul Sims
The Author works as a Software Engineer for a major company. Although he is talented at what he does, he is, at heart, a storyteller.
He is married with three sons. Three cats condescend to share his house and he is looking forward to retirement, as he will have more time for writing, and to raise the spaniel(s) he wants to add to his menagerie.
This is his first published work of fiction.
Robert Warr
The Author was born in the South of Africa on New Year’s Day, a fact that was reported in the local paper. This was his last brush with any type of fame.
A good education was followed, eventually, by an engineering degree, and having tried the army and the police force (as a reservist in both cases), he went into the world of industry. This industrial career was mercifully cut short following an accident while playing cricket in India. As a part of his physiotherapy, he started writing again and found a satisfaction in fiction that no management meeting could ever match.
Having had animals all his life the Author lives in Bournemouth and is currently owned by a Bengal who graciously shares his time with a Labrador and a ginger tom.
More information on his work and forthcoming novels can be found on his Amazon Author page.
Extracts from ‘Twilight in Telphania’
1
Commander John D’Arcy, of Section 6 (Counter-Espionage) of the Terran Union’s Naval Intelligence Service, stood outside his superior’s office door. His heart, normally so well controlled, was beating faster than was comfortable. After all, a summons from the Admiral was rarely for a chat – and this was the first time he’d been called to see the Old Man since... He took a deep breath and knocked.
“Come in.”
He squared his shoulders and entered.
Admiral Neville looked up from the file he was reading. “Ah, Commander D’Arcy, thank you for coming so promptly. Take a seat. How are you feeling?”
“Fine, sir.”
“Have you got used to your new hearing yet?”
“It’s still a bit odd – slightly echoey – and hearing sounds outside the normal spectrum can be rather disconcerting. The adjustable volume is useful, though, and should prove invaluable in the field. And it’s better than being deaf – or worse.”
“To be honest, when I saw what that bomb did to you, I thought I’d never see you in my office again.”
“When I came to, I must admit I thought the same – but now, thanks to the marvels of modern medicine, here I am: John D’Arcy 2.0.”
“Are any of the replacement parts metallic? That could cause problems on high-tech worlds.”
“No – they’re all organic, grown in a v
at from my own stem-cells; even the drug filter and the dispenser built into my new right kidney were constructed using my own DNA. After some intensive physiotherapy – with a very attractive physiotherapist, I might add –” (he grinned boyishly) “– I’m raring to go.”
“Ever the man of action, eh?” The Admiral laughed. “Well, I’ve got a new assignment for you, if you’re sure you’re ready to get back into harness.”
John couldn’t suppress his smile. “All too ready, sir. To be honest, I’ve been getting a bit impatient. After all, the medics cleared me a month ago. I was beginning to be afraid you were going to chain me to a desk forever.”
“Not a chance of that – you’re one of our best operatives. This is a long-term job: you’re going to join the personal bodyguard of the Regnian Sector Governor – without anyone knowing who you really are, of course.”
“What’s the problem?”
The Admiral frowned. “The medic on the team recently retired early, and another took his place.”
“There’s nothing suspicious about that; it’s a high-pressure job, with a lot of burn-out.”
“Normally, I’d agree, but when the new doctor is a volunteer from Mercy, I find it suspicious, especially since the retiree has been offered a sinecure of a job with the same organisation.”
“Hmm… you think the Eranians are up to something?” It was an open secret in the intelligence community that Mercy Incorporated, an interstellar aid agency, was covertly operated by the Eranian Empire. “What do we know about the replacement?”
“Her name’s Tanya Miller, and she was born and brought up on Ataraxia. That makes her a Union citizen, but the fact that she was recruited by Mercy is of concern.”
“How long has she worked for them?”
“Several years.”
“What benefit would the Eranians gain from having an agent in the Governor’s bodyguard?”
The Admiral shrugged. “That’s what I’d like to know – and why I’d like someone I trust keeping an eye on her. Either she’s there for some skulduggery, or the Eranians know something we don’t. Both possibilities make me nervous.”