by Steve Voake
A few minutes later, Sam regained enough breath to make the final climb over the lip of the tree stump. Looking back, he saw that the water boatman was still scuttling around in circles trying to locate him. He bent down, picked up a large stone and threw it as hard as he could at the creature’s head.
‘Yeah, get lost y’freak!’ he shouted angrily as it took off at high speed across the water. ‘Go home to mummy!’
He was practically dry by the time he reached the spot where he had left the rucksack, and after checking that the egg was still safely inside, he leaned down and placed it carefully at the base of the tree stump. Then he pulled on his shirt and trousers and stared up through the branches. He guessed that Skipper would probably be over halfway up by now. With any luck, she would be back before nightfall and they would be able to return the egg to Aurobon without any more hitches.
Exhausted, Sam stretched out on the edge of the tree stump and closed his eyes, lulled by the music of birdsong and the breeze that whispered softly through the leaves above him.
In his dreams, he heard voices calling to him. They were the voices of his mother and father, but as he stretched out his hands to them they grew fainter, until at last they faded away to nothing.
‘Please,’ he cried. ‘Don’t leave me.’
But the voices were lost and all that remained was the sound of the wind, moving across a dark and empty landscape.
He awoke with a start.
Dust blew into his eyes and a loud buzzing filled the air. Blinking and rubbing his eyes, Sam breathed a sigh of relief as he watched the robber fly land in front of him and realised that Skipper must have been successful.
Leaping down from the top of the tree stump, he ran excitedly towards the rope ladder that came tumbling from the fly’s underbelly.
‘Hey, Skipper!’ he shouted as he reached the top of the ladder and clambered through the hatch. ‘We did it! We did it!’
The heavy butt of the pistol struck him so hard across the back of his head that he was unconscious before he hit the floor.
‘Congratulations, kid.’
The man stared down at Sam’s crumpled body, and a smile spread slowly across his face.
‘You don’t wanna mess with ol’ Norzun,’ he said. ‘Didn’t no one ever tell you that?’
Nineteen
Alya was at the Vermian Military Airbase checking soldier ants for signs of parasites when the rumours started. Word spread like wildfire. People were saying they had caught Vermia’s Enemy Number One and that they would be bringing him in tonight.
Intrigued, Alya made her way to Terminal One where her high-level security pass allowed her to slip through a ring of heavily armed guards and into the landing zone. A group of young soldiers were talking excitedly about their expected visitor, occasionally glancing in Alya’s direction to see if she had noticed them. But she remained studiously aloof, her official badge a shield against unwanted attention.
It was nearly an hour later that the dark shape of a giant robber fly appeared beneath the storm clouds, circling once before touching down upon the snow-covered landing strip. For a moment, everything seemed calm and still, as if nothing out of the ordinary had happened. Flurries of snow continued to drift down from the plum-coloured sky and the soldiers stared through the glass doors, momentarily silenced by the fly’s sudden appearance. Then, as the doors of the building slid open and a blast of cold wind awoke them from their reverie, they remembered what they were supposed to do and disappeared off across the airfield in a clatter of boots and rifles.
Alya watched a truck shunt some steps into place below the fly’s wings and then a black uniformed pilot pushed someone roughly through the hatch in front of him.
Alya was puzzled. If this was Public Enemy Number One, then he was certainly a good deal smaller than she had expected.
As the figure reached the bottom of the steps the soldiers surged forward, swallowing him up in a blur of fists and boots. Alya bit her lip and turned away, suddenly very afraid of her fellow countrymen. No doubt the man was evil and posed a terrible threat to all of them. But to inflict unnecessary suffering on any living thing was alien to her and the scene made her feel sick.
The group approached the doors, dragging the prisoner along in their midst. His face was hidden from view, but she could tell by the way he stumbled that he was in a bad way.
The doors slid open and the soldiers thundered through, shouting and swearing as they manhandled their captive away for interrogation. As they passed, a gap momentarily opened up between two of the soldiers and Alya caught a brief glimpse of the notorious prisoner.
To her absolute amazement, it seemed that he was nothing but a young and terrified boy.
When at last they had gone, Alya stood shivering in the middle of the empty hall. Watching the snowflakes drift down from a sunless sky, she turned up her collar and wondered why it was that she suddenly felt so ashamed.
Alya spent the next few days searching through classified files stored on the Central Intelligence computer system. Although she knew it was strictly forbidden, her encounter with the boy at the airbase had merely added to her growing suspicion that the Ministry of Information and Culture was very selective about what it allowed the people of Vermia to know. Her history lessons at school had portrayed Vermian soldiers as brave heroes who would ensure the fulfilment of ancient prophecies. Earth people, on the other hand, were monstrous, evil creatures who would destroy both their own world and Aurobon unless they were eliminated.
But although Alya’s quicksilver mind had led her to discover the keys to their ultimate destruction, it now made her question the morality of it. She wanted to be sure that it was as necessary as she had always been led to believe. So, using the high-level clearance that her newly found success had given her, she had started to comb through the powerful computer database, entering keywords like Earth, human, war and culture in an attempt to discover the truth.
And what she discovered was nothing short of a revelation to her.
Initially, she was reassured by the fact that there was plenty of evidence to back up the lessons that she had been taught. Time and again she found examples of pollution, violence, suffering and countless wars waged by humans on other humans. But gradually her careful research into the various human cultures that existed on Earth began to reveal that many of them were apparently peace-loving, responsible stewards of their world. And to her mounting horror and shame, she discovered that some of the most terrible, unspeakable acts of brutality were to be found not on Earth, but here in Aurobon. For the first time, Alya saw with her own eyes the carefully catalogued records of methodical cruelty, meted out to captives held behind the walls of Vermian prisons.
Clicking through sickening images of Vermian soldiers systematically destroying villages across Mazria, she suddenly awakened a memory in her own mind – a memory of her mother and father screaming at her to run as flames danced against a starlit sky and bullets kicked up dust all around her.
And as she sat alone at the computer watching images of ordinary people on Earth going about their daily business, Alya realised two things; firstly, that it had not been Vahlzian soldiers who had killed her family, and secondly, that she had been lied to all her life.
The inhabitants of Earth were not monsters; they were people, just like her.
The monsters, it seemed, were much closer to home.
In order to celebrate their latest achievements, General Martock and his inner circle had taken over the whole restaurant for the evening. Martock took another swig of expensive red wine and Alya felt her stomach heave as she saw how it glistened and shone on his greasy lips like freshly spilt blood. She stared queasily down at her exquisitely prepared plate of steamed vegetables and laid her fork to one side, unable to put from her mind the images that she had stumbled across the previous evening.
Sensing that she was being watched, she looked up to find the steely gaze of Major Krazni studying her intently from across th
e table.
‘What’s the matter, Miss Blin?’ he asked. ‘Lost your appetite?’
Alya shook her head. ‘I’m sorry,’ she said, ‘I’m not very hungry.’
Krazni continued to stare at her suspiciously, but General Martock roared with laughter and thumped the table so that all the cutlery rattled.
‘Of course she isn’t hungry, Major!’ he shouted. ‘This is the greatest moment of her young life! She is far too excited to be hungry! Isn’t that right, my dear?’
Alya smiled a sad smile. ‘Yes, I expect that’s it.’
Martock chuckled indulgently. ‘Well, I suppose we can let you get away with not eating, but drinking is another matter. Come on, someone. Refresh the young lady’s glass!’
A young waiter, impeccably dressed in freshly ironed black trousers and white linen jacket, hurriedly retrieved a bottle of wine from a bucket of crushed ice and filled Alya’s glass up to the brim.
‘So I should think!’ exclaimed Martock. ‘We can’t have the poor girl dying of thirst! Now then, gentlemen. I think perhaps it is time for a little toast. Please be upstanding for the new young star who shines so brightly among us!’
There was a clink of cutlery on china as Alya’s fellow diners set their knives and forks down upon their plates, reached for their glasses and stood up. Alya made to join them, but Doctor Jancy put a hand on her shoulder and gently pushed her back into her seat again.
‘It’s you, you fool,’ he whispered, not unkindly. ‘The General is talking about you.’
Alya blushed and remained seated, staring awkwardly down at the white cotton tablecloth as General Martock cleared his throat and a hush fell upon the assembled company.
‘I know it is unusual for us to have female company on such an occasion,’ he said, nodding in Alya’s direction. ‘Normally such a thing would be frowned upon. But in this instance the Emperor Odoursin has given his blessing. For this is no ordinary young woman. On the contrary, her achievements are quite extraordinary. She has accomplished something which many thought to be impossible. Almost single-handedly, she has discovered a way of influencing human behaviour. And by doing so, she has given us the tools with which to pursue our Empire’s highest aim – the annihilation of human life on Earth. Once this has been achieved, there will be no one left to stand in our way and the rise of the Vermian Empire will be unstoppable. Gentleman, we are poised on the verge of greatness. And for that we all owe a debt of gratitude to the young woman who sits at our table this evening. So I ask you all to raise your glasses and drink a toast to the brightest new scientist of her generation. Gentlemen, I give you Alya Blin!’
‘To Alya Blin!’ cried the voices from around the table, and they were the voices of generals, scientists, politicians – the highest ranking officials in all of Vermia.
It should have been a moment of supreme triumph, for it was a moment that Alya had dreamed of many times throughout the lonely months of research.
She had finally made it.
But as she looked around the table, she could think of nothing but her dead family and the bruised, battered face of the young boy she had seen at the airbase, his frightened green eyes staring wildly into her own as he searched desperately for someone to rescue him from his nightmare.
Twenty
It was hard for Sam to know how long he had been in this place. Whenever they moved him for interrogation – which they did frequently – he was always blindfolded. All he knew was that his cell was in some kind of basement at the airbase. He knew this because when he first arrived they had taken him down several flights of steps. There were no windows, and the only light came from a bare bulb which burned constantly. He had no idea whether it was night or day.
The questions were always the same: ‘What’s your name? Where have you been hiding? Where is the girl? What is the location of the Resistance base?’
And Sam would always tell them the same thing: ‘My name’s Sam Palmer. I haven’t been hiding. I lost my memory. What girl? What resistance?’
And then they would get angry and lay into him.
Now he sat in the corner of his cell, dipping a corner of his blanket into a mug of water and dabbing at his cut, swollen lips. His left eye had closed up completely, but out of his right eye he watched a spider scuttle across the floor and disappear off under the door of his cell. The fact that even such a small creature had made it to freedom lifted his spirits slightly.
‘Good luck,’ he whispered. ‘Kill some flies for me.’
He thought about Skipper back in the forest and wondered: a) if she knew that he had been captured; b) whether she had found the rucksack with the hornet’s egg in it and c) whether she had managed to make it back to Aurobon. The odds didn’t look good. He’d heard Norzun contacting other fly squadrons with the coordinates of the hornets’ nest; with the storm gone and no Vahlzian forces to slow them down, they would have been there within the hour. He supposed it all depended upon how quickly she’d been able to get out of there. But Sam knew what she was like. If she’d thought that there was any possibility he was still there, she’d have kept on looking for him, right up until the moment they found her…
Sam stiffened. There were voices in the corridor, which usually meant only one thing – they were coming back to interrogate him. His stomach churned and his hands began to shake. They had only just finished with him. He didn’t know if he could face another session. But he knew he must avoid giving away the location of the airbase. If he revealed that, then everything would be lost. He had to hold out, at least until Skipper could get back and warn them.
Sam put down his blanket, waiting for his tormentors to kick the door open. But something was different this time. He listened. Usually there were a whole bunch of them, shouting and queuing up to take a pop at him. But this time there were only two voices. The first he recognised as belonging to the regular guard, but the second one was new. And it was female.
‘Major Krazni sent me,’ the woman was saying. ‘He wants me to run a check on the prisoner’s DNA. Here are my authorisation documents. I think you’ll find them in order.’
There was a rustling of papers followed by the sound of footsteps approaching along the corridor. Sam stood up just as the door opened to reveal the smirking, sadistic face of the guard.
‘Lady back here wants to check on your DNA, kid,’ he sneered. ‘The fun don’t stop for you, do it?’
‘It shouldn’t take long,’ said the woman’s voice brusquely. ‘However, there is a slight risk of infection and I wouldn’t want to put you at any risk. So if you wouldn’t mind… ?’
The guard frowned and his thick eyebrows met in the middle of his forehead.
‘Oh… right. Infection you say? Well maybe I’ll just wait down the hall.’
‘I think it best. This’ll only take about twenty minutes.’
The guard stepped back into the corridor to be replaced by a young, dark-haired woman in her early twenties. Sam was surprised to see that she had a fresh, open face, quite unlike any of the others. But, he reminded himself, appearances could be deceptive.
‘I’ll just be at the end of the block if you need me.’
‘Fine. Thank you.’
The guard vanished into the shadows and the woman closed the cell door behind her.
Sam stared at her.
‘Taking a bit of a risk aren’t you? Shutting yourself in a cell with a dangerous criminal?’
The woman smiled.
‘You don’t strike me as the killing kind,’ she said and Sam found himself unnerved by the apparent kindness in her eyes. He would definitely have to be careful with this one.
‘If it’s my blood you’re after,’ he told her, ‘then maybe you should check out the interrogation room. They’ve been decorating the walls with it in there.’
The woman nodded gravely. ‘I am sorry you have been treated so badly. But I want to help you.’
Sam gave a hollow laugh.
‘Of course you do,’ he said, his
voice heavy with sarcasm. ‘That must be why you work with all these nice people.’
‘I was there at the airfield when they brought you in,’ said the woman. ‘I saw what they did to you, and I’m sorry. I don’t want to be a part of that.’
‘Well, you know what?’ said Sam, ‘from where I’m sitting, it looks pretty much like you already are.’
But as he spoke, Sam remembered catching sight of her face as he was dragged through the terminal. He had seen something in her eyes then, a look which had reached out to him in his distress.
He nodded.
‘I remember,’ he said, more gently. ‘Who are you?’
The woman looked over her shoulder as if to check that they were still alone.
‘My name is Alya,’ she said. ‘And you’re right. I do work for the government.’
Sam stared at her suspiciously.
‘Then why would you want to help me?’
He noticed Alya glance at the cell door again and the fact that she seemed genuinely nervous reassured him a little.
‘Look,’ she said, ‘we haven’t got much time, but I think it’s important that you know something about me. Then maybe you’ll realise why I’m doing this. Why you can trust me.’
Sam shrugged.
‘I’m listening,’ he said.
‘You need to understand,’ Alya went on, ‘that ever since I can remember, I wanted to be a scientist. I saw the world as this huge, complicated puzzle and felt that if I could only solve it, figure out what everything meant, then everything would be OK.’