by Peter Kenson
“Yessir. Uh, you’ll be wanting imperial specifications again I suppose?”
David glared at him and he disappeared into the store room again. When he came back he was carrying four helmet sized boxes.
“I took the liberty of bringing one for yourself, sir. These imperial helmets only operate on secure channels. You won’t be able to talk to your crew unless you are wearing one yourself.”
“Don’t make assumptions about what I can and cannot do,” David told him coldly. “It is inconsistent with leading a long and healthy life. I’ll just take the three.”
“Of course, sir,” the little man gulped again. “Will you be needing any weapons?”
“I have enough rifles and handguns but I’ll take a box of flashbangs, another box of fraggers and some railgun ammunition.”
“Yessir. What about close quarter work?”
David thought about that for a second. “What have you got?”
The shopkeeper led them over to a row of wall cabinets and swung the doors open. Inside there were power assisted blades of every conceivable size and shape, from swords similar to Jeren’s, all the way down to knives that could be concealed in a pocket or a sleeve. But the most spectacular item occupied a cabinet all to itself. Carl’s eyes lit up as he reached for the large double bladed battle axe. Stepping back to give himself some room, he swung it in a series of arcs to test the balance. On the far side of the shop, the security guard shifted his feet uncomfortably and his hand strayed towards the sidearm on his hip. The little shopkeeper looked nervously at Carl, as the big man brought the axe to rest.
“An excellent choice, if I may say so, sir. A magnificent weapon although not much in demand nowadays.”
David looked at Carl who nodded happily. “We’ll take it,” he told the shopkeeper. “And one of those long bladed knives. Now you work out a price for the lot and then we’ll discuss the amount of discount you’re going to give us.”
The haggling was concluded relatively quickly and both sides expressed themselves satisfied with the outcome. The shopkeeper was torn between his inclination to maximise the profit on the deal and his desire to see the back of a potentially troublesome customer. They carried the purchases outside and were loading them into the ground car, when a large, black flitter dropped out of the sky to land behind them and block their departure. Four soldiers in full body armour exited the flitter in professional style, two covering the street and two with weapons pointed directly at David’s group. Their officer stepped out of the flitter and walked up to David.
“Mister Urghul wants to see you. Now.”
“I’m sorry but that’s impossible,” David replied calmly. “Please tell Balthazar that, while we are charmed by his invitation and the manner of its delivery, we really do not have the time to travel to the country today.”
The officer looked at David in confusion. “Mister Urghul isn’t in the country. He’s here in town. And he was really very insistent about seeing you.”
The two soldiers covering them, raised their rifles and indicated that they should board the flitter.
“What about our car?” David asked.
“One of my men will bring it. Now get in.”
They all climbed in, followed by the officer and three of the soldiers, and the flitter took off immediately. Not being constrained by the vagaries of the town’s street plan, the flight took only a few minutes before the flitter settled itself on the roof of the Hotel Metropole.
The officer led the way off the roof to a security checkpoint where they were scanned and ID’d. Balthazar had obviously taken over the whole of the top floor as they passed through two further checkpoints before being ushered into the main suite. As before, Balthazar was seated behind an oversized desk and made no move to get up.
“Lord Held, welcome. It’s a pleasure to see you again. And your companions also. Please be seated.”
The officer and the soldiers had followed them into the room and now placed chairs for them, at a safe distance from the desk.
“You have been shopping I believe,” Balthazar continued. “Why did you not come to me? I would have given you a much better price.”
“We were pressed for time,” David replied. “And we still are. Why have you sent for us?”
“I have some information for you. Normally I would regard such information as a commodity with some value but, in this instance, you may have it as a gift.”
David forced himself to sit quietly and wait for the arms dealer to continue.
“The second half of that shipment you ordered has been delivered as specified. Unfortunately on the return journey, the ship that made the delivery was intercepted.”
“I see. And now you are looking for compensation, I suppose?”
“Ah no, you misunderstand me. Mackay was an independent; a good man and I’m sorry to lose his services, but he wasn’t one of mine.”
“Then what?”
“Mackay was carrying a passenger on the return trip. The young lady you brought to my office that time.”
“Rachel,” Jeren gasped, jumping to his feet.
A needle gun suddenly appeared in Balthazar’s hand and David could hear movement from the guards behind him.
“Please ask your young friend to remain seated, my lord. It makes my guards nervous. Yes, I’m afraid it was the young queen but, as far as I’m aware, she is alive and unharmed.”
“What happened?” David asked, catching hold of Jeren’s arm to pull him down.
“Mackay got a message off before they were caught. Apparently they were away, free and clear, when a frigate suddenly materialised in front of them, directly on their flight path. He tried to run but they took out his engines and then locked a tractor beam on them. That’s the last confirmed information but it seems likely that they were captured rather than killed.”
“The frigate was Vostovian?” David asked.
“That is my understanding. Certainly the Belsi have nothing with that sort of capability.”
“Then it is possible they do not know who they have captured.”
Balthazar shrugged. “It’s possible but Vostov and Belsi are pretty tight at the moment.”
“Well let’s think about that for a minute. What would Vostov do with smugglers they caught in Belsian space? Take them to Belsia and hand them over?”
Again a shrug. “It’s what I’d do. You don’t keep prisoners on a warship for longer than absolutely necessary.”
“Right, who else knows about this?” David asked.
“Unless somebody else picked up Mackay’s message, then you’re the only ones.”
“I need it to stay that way. It’ll take me a full day to reach Belsia, running flat out. And then at least another day to organise something when I get there. They may discover who she is anyway, but I don’t want them finding out about it from here.”
Balthazar looked directly at David. “You know what you’re asking? I have no particular liking for the Belsi, but information is a valuable commodity.”
David returned the gaze with equal directness. “I acknowledge the debt.”
The arms dealer nodded. “Then we have a deal. Two days. You’d better hurry.”
***
“See if you can contact her,” David told Jeren as they headed back to the spaceport at high speed. “But be very cautious about it. We don’t know who might be with her.”
Jeren took his new pendant out from under his shirt and held it tightly in his fist as he thought of Rachel. Within seconds an image appeared of a ship’s officer in an unfamiliar uniform, standing directly in front of him. As she sensed the contact, Rachel slowly turned her head to give him a view of the whole room. To right and left of the officer were crewmen holding laser rifles and there were more crewmen visible in the background. To her left, an older man was being supported by two more of the crew.
“Are you all right?” he asked her.
“Apart from havin
g a laser rifle pointed at my face, I’m fine. They handled Captain Mackay fairly roughly though.”
“Who are the goons? Are they Vostovian or Belsi?”
“They’re not Belsi,” she replied. “I’d have recognised the uniforms.”
“Okay, that ties in with our information. We think it was a Vostovian frigate that intercepted you.”
“What information? How do know this?”
“Captain Mackay got a message off before you were captured. Now, do they know who you are?”
“No, I’m still using the ident chip that David altered. They think I’m Rakela Anosova from Novaya Zemlya.”
“Good. Have they said what they’re going to do with you?”
“Not yet.”
“Okay, we think they’ll take you to Belsia and hand you over to the authorities there. Try to let us know where they take you, but don’t give yourself away to the Belsi sniffers. David and I are on our way to get you.”
“But how?”
“Don’t worry about that. Just take care of yourself until we get there. I love you.”
“I love you, Jeren. Please be careful.”
Jeren broke the contact as David flung the little ground car round the final corner on the approach to the spaceport.
“She’s okay,” he reported, “but they beat up the captain. They’re on board the Vostovian frigate at the moment and they haven’t said where they’re taking her.”
The next hour was a blur of activity as they bribed their way past airport security to load their purchases and get the shuttle back up to the Salamander. David cut through the red tape of departure, breaking orbit and heading out of the system without waiting for official clearance, much to the annoyance of an irate space traffic controller.
As soon as they were clear of the planet’s influence, he plotted the first jump in the sequence that would take them to Belsia, but before they could execute the jump, the comms unit began bleeping.
“What is it? What’s wrong?” Jeren asked from the co-pilot’s seat.
“There’s nothing necessarily wrong, but it’s certainly unusual,” David replied as he scanned the comms board. “There’s a comms drone just arrived in the system and it’s specifically asking for me.”
Comms drones were routinely used to carry immense quantities of information between planetary systems, which generally included a swathe of personal messages, but the costs of despatching such a drone were so high, that they were rarely sent exclusively to specific individuals. David identified himself to the drone and went through a lengthy sequence of challenges and responses before the screen cleared to reveal the face of Khan. The Head of the Security Service did not look happy.
“Lord David, if this drone has found you, then you are not where you are supposed to be. However, at this time I am not going to enquire too closely as to why you’re there, or who you may have with you in direct contravention of another department’s edict.”
“How does he know I’m here?” Jeren exclaimed.
“He doesn’t. He’s bluffing… I hope!”
“I do, however, have some serious information for you,” the message continued, “that may influence your current plans. Our laboratories have confirmed that the cause of the slaughter at Sorinto was a programmable nanovirus. Officially it’s of unknown origin but all the fingers are pointing at Vostov. We believe the original virus was programmed to attack the Ystrad and only the Ystrad. The virus is designed to be self-replicating so that it infects a host and then produces more of itself to infect another target. However, the self-replicating process is defective and the virus mutates as it does so. The secondary version of the virus is generic and will attack any living creature.
“The damned thing is a Doomsday virus. If released into a planet’s atmosphere, it will eventually kill every living being on that planet. How long it will take depends on the winds and other atmospheric conditions, and how much of the atmosphere is seeded in the first place. Our fear is that Sorinto was a test run and that the Belsi intend to use it on Ystradis. They may believe that it will only kill the Ystrad but the reality is that their people will die as well and the planet will become uninhabitable for centuries.
“You are authorised to proceed to Belsia with all speed and take steps to prevent this attack from happening. The Belsi have withdrawn their ambassador here and effectively closed all diplomatic channels. Admiral Wei is despatching elements of the Third Fleet to the region and the Swordfish is already on station. You have full authority to call on whatever military support you feel is necessary. We have no hard intel on the timetable but the Vostovian frigate Destructor has been spotted in Belsian space and we suspect the attack may be imminent. Good luck. Khan out.”
Chapter 26 – Belsia/Swordfish/Salamander
Rachel felt a shove in the back as she walked down the shuttle’s ramp onto the spacefield. Beside her, Mackay staggered and fell to his knees from the force of the push that he also received. They both had their hands tied together in front of them and the older man struggled to get up again. Rachel bent down to help him and one of the guards backhanded her across the mouth for her trouble.
“Leave him be. He can crawl from there,” the man snarled.
Rachel could taste the blood in her mouth and spat it out on the concrete as she glared at the guard who had slapped her. Mackay gave a warning shake of the head as he forced himself upright and stumbled towards her.
“Don’t do anything rash,” he whispered. “This is not the time.”
“No talking,” the guard yelled, giving them another shove towards the waiting ground car. A squad of soldiers in Belsi uniforms was standing by the car and the sergeant stepped forward.
“These the smugglers?” He eyed Rachel up and down. “This one’s quite tasty. I’m surprised she let that old fart between her legs.”
“Deep space can be boring,” the Vostovian sneered. “Gotta do something to pass the time. And the old goat’s equipment is obviously still working.”
“That’s true enough.” Both men joined in the general laughter as Rachel stared icily at them.
“Right, let’s get them in the car,” the sergeant ordered his men. “Commander Sitrona‘s going to want to see these two.”
“Where are you taking us?” Rachel asked.
“To the palace,” one of the soldiers replied, pushing her towards the car. “We’ve got some accommodation specially reserved for you,” he sniggered. “You’ll be very comfortable there until the commander’s ready for you.”
Inside the car, she looked carefully at each member of the squad. They all were wearing the special collars that prevented telepathic contact; she could not even read their minds let alone influence their actions. But importantly, none of them wore the insignia of a sniffer and so she risked a quick contact with Jeren.
“Jeren, my love.”
“Rachel, where are you?”
“I’m on a planet which must be Belsia; it’s very bleak. They’re taking us to the palace to see someone called Commander Sitrona. Pass the name on to David; it may mean something to him.”
“I will. Are you all right?”
“I’m fine but I must go now. Take care.”
She flashed a quick smile in Mackay’s direction and got a nod in return as the ground car lurched off towards the palace.
***
“New contact, sir” the duty sensors operator reported.
“Where away?”
“Inbound on the regular trade route, sir. Just passing the outer limits of the system.”
“Another ore carrier?” Mikael asked.
“No sir. Too small and too fast. Running an ID check now, sir.”
“Any reaction from the Belsi?”
“Small increase in signals traffic,” Ewan Targa reported from the comms station. “Seems to be mainly directed at the new arrival.”
“Nothing on the threat board,” Frank added. “Patrol frigates around Ys
tradis are maintaining course and speed. None of the ships in orbit around Belsia are showing any signs of preparing to get underway, including the Destructor. Whoever this new ship is, she’s expected.”
“Sir, she’s Vostovian. One of their fast patrol craft. The type’s listed in the database but not this specific ship.”
“Guns, can you tell us anything about her?” Mikael asked the ex-Vostovian officer.
“Not much I’m afraid. They’ve got a lot of these little ships; they’re lightly armed but not really designed for fighting. They use them for scouting or courier work mostly.”
“Okay, where’s she headed?”
“On course for Belsia, sir.”
“Log it and get a report off to the admiral.”
Mikael looked up and smiled as Suzanne came onto the bridge, and then blinked in surprise as she addressed him formally.
“Captain, I’ve just received some information which you need to know about. And your exec,” she added.
Mikael bit back the immediate question as he saw the warning frown on her face. “Right, let’s take this into the ready room then. Number One, you’re with us; Lt. Targa, you have the conn.”
Once inside, Frank carefully closed the door behind them and Mikael perched himself on the edge of his desk. “So what’s all this about then?”
“I have a message from Lord David. There’s two pieces of news; both of them bad. First, that smuggler that was intercepted by the Destructor, was carrying Queen Rachel back to help the survivors of the attack on Sorinto. She’s been taken to Belsia and handed over to the authorities there. The only relief is that she was travelling under a false identity and, for the moment, we believe they don’t know who she is.
“The second thing is, the attack on Sorinto was a viral weapon, specifically designed to kill Ystrad. It was almost certainly produced on Vostov and we know it was launched from the frigate Destructor. However, they believe that the attack was ordered by the Belsi as a trial run ahead of the main attack on the planet Ystradis. This is genocide. They think the Belsi are trying to wipe the Ystrad from the face of the universe.