Renegades

by Thomas Locke

  The old man could not quite hide his avaricious gleam. “How much?”

  “A million dekaliters,” Logan replied. “The ship carries nothing else.”

  “Then you are welcome,” his uncle declared. “I will arrange—”

  Logan broke in with, “First there is the small matter of what I want in return.”

  Nicolette and her team traveled back by holding Sidra’s hand. They stood in the rear hold of their vessel a thousand leagues above the point where they had been an instant before. Once she reported in, Logan returned to the flight deck with Vance and said it was time to land. Hattie asked if he was abandoning the team he had sent to Loghir, for the only word she had received from her pod crew was a radio message that Logan’s team had entered the city and not returned. Logan did not respond.

  Hattie let Logan and Vance remain on the flight deck for the final approach. Logan suspected she hoped it would frighten them from taking what she saw as a suicidal next step. But Logan had found great strength in Sidra’s report, not to mention Linux’s agreeing to his terms. He watched the planet’s approach with awe and more than a little fear. But mostly he was excited by the prospect of what awaited him. Years of hoping. A lifetime spent searching out this one chance, no matter how slender. Logan was far less worried than most would be in this situation, for he had survived many lean and dangerous days. He watched in utter astonishment as the Outer Rim came into view, his worries all centered on those who had put their trust in his untested abilities.

  The planet’s outer half remained in perpetual darkness. During the period soon after its former sun went nova, a massive object had struck its molten surface. Scientists assumed the impact was what had sent Aldwyn reeling out of its orbit and eventually into its new planetary home. The impact zone was large enough to swallow Logan’s entire home province. The crater was rimmed by razor mountains, tall as death’s own crown. In eons past, the crater had become home to pirate fiefs, clans who had lost their lands through war. The desperado attitude lived on.

  The signal officer reported nervously, “We have been pinged, Skipper. Twice.”

  “Hold to the course.” Hattie sounded calm, but Logan could see her white-knuckle grip on the chair arms. “Identify the source.”

  “First ping was the main landing terminal. Second ping is our destination, the tower of the lesser field. Now a third ping, Captain! And a fourth! Both originating from planetary weapons systems!”

  “Hold fast to your course,” she told her frightened pilot.

  “The main tower is demanding to know who we are.” The signal officer’s voice lifted a full octave. “They are threatening to shoot us down if we don’t respond!”

  “Hold to strict silence!”

  “A fifth ping, Captain!”

  Logan turned and nodded. Hattie barked, “Send the response. Do it!”

  The signal officer slapped the panel hard. Linux had supplied them with both an approach vector and a response signal. The signal was to be their only communication, sent after the fifth ping. Hattie had received the instructions herself and watched as the signal officer coded in the electronic response. Even so, the entire flight deck held their breath in unison until the officer breathed, “All silent, Captain. The weapons systems have unlocked.”

  “Ready the ship for landing,” Hattie said. She turned to Logan and said, “You’d best go prepare your crew for their final approach.”

  14

  The court most certainly does not allow,” Kaviti snapped.

  “Point of order, Honored Justice.” The man stepped away from the jury box. “The court has no choice. It is within my right.”

  The Advocate rose from her position on the front pew. “Ambassador, perhaps it missed your attention, but Commander Taunton has formally registered his interest in the proceedings.”

  Kaviti demanded, “Why am I just hearing about this now?”

  “I was only informed upon arrival in the court.” Advocate Cylian seated herself, then glanced at Sean. For the briefest instant, so swift it would have been possible to believe it had not happened at all, the Kabuki mask dissolved and she smiled.

  Kaviti missed it because he was scowling at the newcomer. “Formal notice of interest permits you observer status, nothing more.”

  “True, unless the accused elect to change my status,” the newcomer replied. “I formally request the court’s permission to address the young men before you.”

  “Oh, let him,” the fake grandmother said. “He’s going to in the end.”

  And then it happened again. While Kaviti scowled at the stranger, the woman shot Sean a look as swift as the Advocate’s. And offered him the day’s second ray of hope.

  The man bowed. “I am most grateful for the court’s indulgence.”

  Dillon jerked to his feet and hissed, “Stand up.” When Sean rose, Dillon whispered, “Say yes.”

  “To what?”

  “To anything he says.”

  Taunton was a small man, half a head shorter than Sean. But he carried himself with such authority that the physical elements were meaningless. He asked Dillon, “You know who I am?”

  “Yes, Commander.”

  “That makes things easier. Introduce your brother, please.”

  “Commander Taunton, this is Sean Kirrel.”

  “A pleasure, I’m sure. Are you two willing to appoint me as your Advocate?”

  “Out of the question,” Kaviti said.

  “Yes, Commander,” Sean replied.

  Taunton then offered Sean the day’s third gift. Not a smile so much as the expression of a hungry tiger. All teeth and rage. He leaned forward and murmured, “Then let the games begin.”

  “If it pleases the court,” Taunton said, “might I inquire as to when the prosecutor will arrive?”

  It seemed to Sean that Kaviti’s ire carried a new and nervous tone. “This is a preliminary hearing. A prosecutor is not required to be present.”

  “And yet the Advocate assigned to the young men by your own office told them that charges were already leveled. Quite serious charges. Is that not so?”

  “If she did so, it was without my knowing.”

  Sean looked over to where the Advocate sat behind the empty left-hand table. Her mask was firmly back in place. But she must have felt his eyes, for she shot him a glance and gave a fractional head shake. Sean turned back around.

  “Even so.” Taunton stood before their table, hands laced behind his back. “Does it not appear a bit strange that a prosecutor would level such extremely severe charges and not feel required to attend the first hearing?”

  Kaviti appeared to be the only Justice willing to speak. “Certainly not.”

  “I thank the court for this most illuminating clarification.”

  “If that is all, the court hereby orders the Kirrel brothers to be returned to their—”

  “One moment, if it pleases the court.” Taunton made a process of drawing papers from his pocket and unfolding them. “It appears that the prosecutor’s name has been omitted from the court documents.”

  “Justices are entitled to bring charges,” Kaviti replied. “Which you would know, if you had any foundation—”

  “And yet do these same rules of procedure not require the Justice to then immediately appoint a prosecutor? Following this, are they not required to immediately excuse themselves from all court proceedings?”

  The Zulu said, “That is correct.”

  Kaviti snarled, “I have already stated that this is a preliminary hearing only, and thus none of these rules apply, as you would know if you had any business—”

  “Ah, but it is my business, honored sir. These young men have made it my business. Have you not, Sean? Dillon?”

  “Definitely, yes.”

  “Absolutely.”

  “Let it be so noted.” Taunton returned his attention to the Justices. “Now that this matter has been resolved, allow me to raise another. Am I correct in assuming you have imprisoned these young men
on charges that were not formally registered?”

  Kaviti bridled. “How dare you enter this court uninvited and imply—”

  “And they have been incarcerated for six days—can that truly be so?”

  Kaviti snarled, “They resisted arrest.”

  Taunton seemed to take exquisite pleasure in drawing forth another document. “Ah, but I have taken the liberty of gathering testimony of numerous witnesses who claim the exact opposite.”

  The grandmotherly Justice looked askance at the central Justice. “Is this true? You involved me on a false premise?”

  Kaviti rose to his feet and thundered, “How dare you!”

  “How dare I?” Taunton grew in size and volume until he filled the space between their table and the dais. “How dare I? You are seeking to serve as investigator, prosecutor, judge, and jury. How dare I? You order them to take as Advocate a member of your personal staff, and you ask this of me?”

  “You will be silent!”

  “Let the records show that I hereby accuse you, Ambassador Kaviti, of breach of judiciary trust and illegal use of your court-appointed position! Furthermore, I accuse you of reckless abandonment of every principle that underpins the Human Assembly!”

  “Those two boys—”

  “These two men, my clients, did nothing whatsoever except respond to an emergency appeal. They saved an innocent civilian from being dismembered, and a high political official of their home world from being coerced into making a terrible choice—go against his principles or condemn his nephew to a slow and painful death.”

  “Now, see here—”

  Taunton stabbed the air over their table. “These two are heroes. They have precisely obeyed the Human Assembly’s covenant. They have always acted as servants to our code of ethics and behavior! How dare I? This is how I respond, sir. I will go before the Assembly and request—no, demand—that you be stripped of all titles and positions. That is what I dare.” He turned his back on the Justices and said, “Come, lads. We are done with this travesty.”

  Kaviti sputtered, “I have not dismissed them!”

  “Might I suggest,” the Zulu murmured, “that now would be a good time to remain silent.”

  Taunton led them back to where the guards stood at rigid attention. He pointed to Dillon’s ankle clamp and ordered, “Free these men.”

  15

  Logan returned to his team as the ship descended into an underground hold. And there they waited. His uncle Linux insisted upon testing the water’s purity before letting anyone disembark. This cost Logan’s team two precious hours. But he did not complain because it would have accomplished nothing.

  Finally the claxon sounded. When the deck portal rumbled down, Logan was astonished to find just one old man. He walked down the steel deck and said, “Greetings, Uncle.”

  The man was tall and carried a severe strength that defied his silver-white mane. “I would say that it is an honor, but to begin with lies is unworthy of us both.”

  Logan searched the massive cavern. It was entirely empty save for their ship, Linux, and an open-topped ground transport. “You come alone?”

  “I saw no need to risk the lives of others.” Linux gestured to the transport. “Load your team. How many are you?”

  “Fifty-two.”

  “Not enough.” He watched them troop down the rear deck. “Where are their weapons?”

  “In their packs.”

  “You carry no artillery?”

  “The last invasion tried that and failed,” Logan replied. “I have a different plan in mind.”

  Black eyes glittered with a humor Logan could only call evil. “When you meet your father, be sure and give him my best.”

  Linux had a slow way of talking that made a man feel comfortable, though his news was dire. “My fief controls the largest of the perimeter markets. Or rather, we once ran things. Now the Havoc dogs are gnawing on our borders, and many of the merchants have been scared off.”

  “They want to starve you out,” Vance said.

  “They want us to die,” Linux said. He drove the transport with grim intent. “Tell me, Lord Hawk, how is it you journey with these folk, the enemy of your people?”

  “They are friends, I find them trustworthy, and they shield my back,” Logan replied. “Who could ask for more?”

  “You of all people should know the Cygnean methods. The Aldus clan slaughtered your kin.”

  “They defeated us,” Logan agreed. “But even my father says they won a fair fight.”

  “There is no such thing,” Linux countered. “Except in history books written by the victors.”

  “A fair battle, fairly won,” Logan said. “I have studied their tactics, and they deserved to win.”

  Linux chewed on that for a time. “So you joined them.”

  “So I could come here.”

  “And die with your starving kin, at the boundary of a market Clan Havoc will soon claim as their own.”

  Linux’s transport was a metal beast that easily held Logan’s entire team and all their gear. The driver’s roofless cab had twin seats up front with a padded row behind. Logan sat beside Linux. Vance and Nicolette shared the rear seat with Sidra. The market cave was so vast the far side was lost to smoke and dust.

  Linux smiled at their astonishment. “At its height, Hawk’s Market had almost two thousand stallholders. We were always fair in our dealings. We kept order. We stayed honest. Before the troubles started, we were turning merchants away.”

  Vance asked, “And now?”

  “We’ve lost several hundred thus far. Still more depart every day.”

  Even so, the market was jammed and noisy. The merchants and customers made way reluctantly for the transport. Linux held to the central thoroughfare, broad as a Cygnean highway, and moved at scarcely more than a walking pace. For once, Logan felt no impatience. He studied the place and the people, hunting.

  Linux went on, “Every time Clan Havoc sends in their packs of dogs, more of the easily frightened depart. The others watch and hope that we will find a solution. Our situation is dire enough for me to hope you might succeed, when I know it is impossible.”

  Logan said, “I thank you for this gift of trust.”

  Linux shook his head. “Understand me, nephew. I do not trust any Cygnean soldier. But I am trapped, and the Havoc dogs will soon be baying for my hide.”

  This cavern held not just a market but a township. The stalls backed up against stone houses, most with upper floors sprouting balconies that overlooked the fray. There were factories and inns and music and even songbirds in gilded cages. The smells were strong, the din more powerful still. Linux pointed down various sidelines, listing the occupants. In the far distance rose glass-roofed structures housing the hydroponics gardens.

  At several points Logan spotted the crest of Hawk’s Fief—adorning the sides of buildings, painted on signposts, and the largest emblem of all carved above passages leading from the cavern. Logan studied his clan’s ancient battle standard, the attacking bird of prey at its heart, and felt something stir in his gut. What precisely, he could not say, only that his father felt unexpectedly close.

  The market’s distant ceiling was a true marvel. A center portion, perhaps two hundred paces across, was a circle of glass. The stars swam and flowed overhead as the transport moved along, for the aperture was far from perfectly formed.

  “There are any number of such caverns,” Linux said, following Logan’s astonished gaze. “At least a dozen in the Outer Rim alone. Star domes, they’re called. What you see there is thicker than the height of five men. The material is carbonized and harder than most stone.”

  A fitting home for Hawk’s Fief, Logan wanted to say, but he was silenced by the market’s sudden change.

  As they approached the cavern’s side, the market became quieter. The people they passed wore sullen gazes and scowled when they recognized Linux.

  Here the market reminded Logan of an old man’s mouth, with empty spaces where stone
teeth should have resided. They passed several where the stall and the house behind had been reduced to rubble.

  Linux remained silent as he drove them toward the cavern’s wall. He stopped where the avenue entered a massive tunnel. “Eighteen leagues dead ahead, you enter the Havoc fief. When we began here, the distance separating our two clans was more than enough. They had their world, we had ours.”

  Nicolette said, “You could block it off.”

  Linux responded by turning right and heading down a side lane. “We survive by taking no offense. We pretend all is well. We offer fealty. We hope Tiko will forget these wild ambitions and return to peace.”

  Logan surveyed a cluster of seven structures, all bearing the Hawk’s crest, all empty. “How is that working for you?”

  Linux halted before the largest of the structures. “This was home to our militia. We shifted them to the market’s far end to reduce the risk of conflict. You are welcome to it.”

  Logan did not move. “Tell me the rest.”

  Linux kneaded the wheel with two strong hands. He did not speak.

  Logan guessed, “There are some in your company who want to attack before you grow weaker still.”

  “Their numbers grow with every passing day.”

  “They should have a talk with my father,” Logan said. “See how far that strategy took him.”

  Linux cast him a look of dark approval. “It is claimed Clan Havoc now holds the technology required to make ditrinium weaponry.”

  “Which was how they defeated our forces,” Nicolette said. “We suspected as much, but there were no survivors to confirm it.”

  Logan asked, “You have ditrinium?”

  “The mine and the smelting operations. The finest in the Outer Rim.”

  “This conflict was never about the market,” Vance said. “The Havoc fief wants your mine.”

  “Duke Tiko wants everything,” Linux replied.

  Logan saw the pieces fit together. “He wants to rule Aldwyn.”

  “If he manages to take over all of the Outer Rim and lay claim to the planet,” Vance said, “all he’d need to do is threaten to cut off the supply of ditrinium. The ruling council on Cygneus would snap like a dry twig.”