“No matter how good you think you have become,” he’d said, waving his arms in a circle for emphasis, “there is always someone out there bigger, faster, stronger or more skilled.” He’d tapped his chest with a closed right fist before continuing, “It’s what is in your heart, here, that matters.” Hiro had walked over and encroached into Christine’s personal space and looked up into her eyes, hitting her breastplate hard several times over her heart to make his point.
“When you’ve fought hand to hand and see the life leave your opponent’s body as your knife tears apart their internal organs; hear them plead for mercy with their last breath as you look into their eyes; then, and only then will you know if you have what it takes to survive in combat. It’s not a game for silly children who just play at fighting. Remember this, Christine.”
Surprisingly, despite his somewhat harsh methods and abruptness with her, Hiro hadn’t complained when she told him she and Alexander were absenting themselves for two days. He’d simply reminded her to continue light exercise while she was away and had unexpectedly hugged her hard before excusing himself and marching off.
Bringing her thoughts back to the present, Christine waited until the newly formed suit’s AI confirmed everything was ready, and the two of them entered the airlock. A quick check told her the temperature outside was below freezing and running a blizzard, so for the moment she formed a partial helmet so she could look at Adam’s face. She looked across at him, now also suited up, and smiled warmly. He returned it, instructing his suit to fully form the helmet and indicating to Christine she should now do the same.
“It’s a long way down, and the air’s a bit thin up here,” he joked, his voice sounding in her helmet, knowing Christine understood the dangers but unable to resist teasing her.
“Very funny,” she thought back, at the same time checking with Vimes how long before they reached their destination. He responded with an overview in her helmet of where radio intercepts indicated the location of her father’s regiment, the 2nd Battalion Fusiliers. It was a measure of how well Christine had integrated into her new life, that having become accustomed to having all the information she needed just a thought away, she now found Earth’s lack of a central data net very frustrating. A quick check of the display confirmed they would be over his regiment's position in ten minutes, at which point they would jump from the yacht and use their suits to glide down to the ground and meet with him.
“Drones are away and searching,” Vimes informed them, “By the time we are in position his general location will have been identified to within a mile.”
Like the drones, Christine and Alexander’s suits had a record of her father’s DNA, taken from the saliva he used to lick close the letters he had sent to her and they would use this to literally sniff him out from air samples when they moved closer to his position. They only needed to get within a mile, and the suit would pick up his location and lead them straight to him. The dozens of drones Vimes had just released would quickly cover the town and surrounding area where Bill’s regiment was billeted.
They both waited patiently for one of the drones to make contact, each thinking their own thoughts. Christine desperately wanted to bring her father away with her, safe from the vagaries of this war. Not a day had gone past without thinking of Bill and wondering if he was safe. Alexander, on the other hand, despite his affection and respect for him, had grave reservations about revealing his true identity to Bill and had only reluctantly agreed to let Christine return and make sure her father was safe and well. Inwardly, Alexander knew that when they found him, both he and his wife would face a tough choice, with one of them bound to be unhappy with the outcome, for he knew Christine would not accept leaving her father behind, no matter what arguments he might put forward. He sighed to himself, making sure the audio pickup in his helmet was switched off, not wanting to raise again the argument over Bill that had gone on almost from Christine’s first day on Capital.
After what only seemed a few moments, Vimes announced they had reached their drop zone, and Alexander could sense Vimes making final checks on their suits to ensure both were operating at peak efficiency. He smiled inside, appreciating how much he appreciated having Vimes around to cover not just his back but Christine’s too.
“Right, you two,” Vimes began, “two drones have reported a contact, and I’ve programmed your suits with the location. Once you are down, they will work with the drones to triangulate Bill’s position. I recommend keeping a low profile and try to avoid contact with any guards or sentries. Good luck,” and with that he opened the airlock and they moved forward, the door closing behind them just as the outer one opened. Through the doorway they could see the blizzard below, completely hiding any view of the ground unless they used their lenses. Without a moment's thought or glance to check if he was following, Christine leapt out into space, keeping her arms close to her side to facilitate free-fall. A small icon on her display showed Alexander was only a few hundred yards behind her and closing fast, using the small thrusters in his suit to come alongside.
Christine allowed the suit’s AI to manage the descent, which allowed her to enjoy the experience. She only had a half dozen high altitude jumps to her credit and after the initial nerves of her first had taken to it like a veteran, not even requiring any artificial memories to help her.
As their speed and altitude decreased, the buffeting lessened a little to the point where they could transfer control from the AI to themselves, making the experience more personal. Like Christine, Alexander was enjoying the descent, something he normally wouldn’t get the chance to do in these current troubled times. For a few moments, his mind focused on the rebellion back home. Duke Gallagher had encouraged him to take a short break and in his absence, was commanding the loyalist forces on his behalf. Enough Sectors had answered their call to arms and had allied themselves behind his standard, but the fighting was going to take many years to see through to the end. Not for the first time, Alexander thought how fortunate he was to have such a loyal and devoted friend in Gallagher. He knew that without his support, the chances of his ever regaining the throne would be slim indeed.
Vimes voice sounded in their helmets, warning them the chosen landing point was only a minute away. They both changed to a feet down position and activated their repulsors, feeling their weight increase due to decelerative forces as they neared the ground now rushing to meet them. The mild discomfort didn’t last long and almost to the second they touched down together onto the frozen and snow covered ground.
With several of the airborne drones keeping overwatch on their position, Christine activated the sensor on her suit and waited for it to obtain a strong lead. In the distance, about half a mile away, they could make out the dark silhouettes of the nearest buildings. Their destination was a small town, typical of the region. Nestled against a hill, it had been built in ancient times high enough above the river valley to keep it safe from flooding. Narrow streets and red terracotta tiles gave it a picturesque aspect, but in varying degrees, like all of the villages, many of the houses were in need of repair. Switching to full night vision, everything jumped into sharp contrast, enabling them to clearly make out the buildings and positions of the sentries. Several large marquee-like structures were clearly visible, probably used as mess halls for the soldiers billeted in the town.
“You ready?” Alexander’s voice sounded in her mind, tinged with enough affection and concern to make Christine feel warm inside.
“Yes, darling, lead on,” she replied, moving closer to him. They touched helmets gently, then Alexander sped off, the powered muscles of his suit making short work of the blizzard. Christine, only a few yards behind, followed the path made by his suit. The poor visibility helped them approach the closest building without being seen, and they were soon standing in the lee of a tall wall, swirls of snow twisting and dancing around their legs. The wind was making accurate tracking harder than usual, but the trace was pointing them to a four-storey building
across an open square from where they were sheltering.
Without needing to confer, they both activated their suit’s stealth mode, which blurred the outlines and gave the appearance that light passed through the suits, leaving any casual observer to only see a faint outline. In this storm, someone would need to know what they were looking for to detect where they were standing. A final quick scan confirmed no-one nearby was about, and they sped across the square towards the door which held the strongest trace. Christine kept watch while Alexander tried to open it. Unsurprisingly, it was locked, but he had anticipated this and the flexible, monomolecular blade extruded from his gauntlet sliced through the latch bolt, allowing him to push the door open and step inside, quickly followed by Christine, who held the door closed against the biting wind.
“Look for something to hold this shut,” she instructed him, talking quietly into her helmet even though nothing could be heard outside.
Alexander looked around for a moment, then picked up a narrow sideboard and wedged it against the door. Christine felt a twinge of regret for the property owner who would now have to find a locksmith, so made a mental note to leave a gold coin behind by way of recompense. The communal hallway was two yards across and, like the outside, in need of some attention. Paint was peeling off the woodwork, and many of the tiles underfoot were chipped or broken. A flight of stairs sat at the end, giving access to the upper floors. A quick check of the tracker showed multiple traces covering several days along the hallway and up the stairs towards a doorway on the first floor.
Together, they headed noiselessly up the stairs, taking care not to make any noise on the worn stone steps. At the top, the traces all turned left, so they followed them to another, less solid wooden door. Sensors confirmed the heat source inside was definitely Bill. Christine withdrew her helmet, quickly followed by Alexander, who looked back at her quizzically, seeking a cue from her how she wanted to proceed.
Now that she was here and about to see her father again, Christine found herself strangely undecided. She reached forward to try the door handle, expecting it to be locked, noting that her gauntlet was trembling, the micro-muscles in her suit mirroring the slightest of movements of the hand inside. To her surprise the handle moved, allowing her to begin pushing the door open, aware of the faint creaks and squeaks from the old hinges. She stopped and turned back to look at Alexander, who nodded encouragement and gestured for her to continue.
Pushing the door open, she stepped inside and moved towards the bed, only then noticing it was empty. She sensed a presence other than Alexander behind her and spun around, catching a brief glimpse from behind the door of her father’s angry face and an arm that was about to bring a heavy-looking metal candlestick down onto her unprotected head.
Before the blow could land, Alexander moved quickly and grasped the arm tightly with his right hand, his left clamped firmly around Bill’s mouth to stifle any sound, waiting for the inevitable recognition when he got a good look at his daughter. Bill struggled for a few moments, but against the suit’s immense power he was unable to free himself.
“Dad, it’s me, Ena,” said Christine, quietly, moving close and illuminating the neck-ring of her suit so he could get a good look at her face.
Bill immediately stopped struggling, and Alexander relaxed his grip on the raised arm, allowing Bill to bring it down to his side, and freeing his mouth.
“Ena? Oh my good God, what…when… how did you get here, how did you find me? What on earth are you wearing?”
He turned around to look at who had been holding him, then staggered backwards several steps when he recognised Alexander, the heavy candlestick dropping to the thick rug with a muffled thud.
“Alex? But you’re meant to be a prisoner or dead…I need to sit down,” and with that he made to move towards the bed but then changed his mind and turned back to Christine, quickly enveloping her in a huge hug, despite the fact that the suit meant he had to stand on tip-toe.
“If this is a dream I don’t want to wake up from it, girl,” he said, before moving away and reaching up to stroke her cheek, then run his hands over the suit, switching to knocking with his knuckles to try and work out what she was wearing.
Christine and Alexander both remained silent, letting Bill work it out in his own mind and get his thoughts straight. Bill reluctantly moved away from his daughter and over to Alexander, reaching up and placing both hands on his shoulders. Bill looked into his eyes, Alexander recognising the familiar, piercing look that Bill gave him when trying to figure the hidden truth behind something. The last time he had been on the receiving end of the look had been just before Bill had joined his regiment in North Africa when Bill had asked him what his intentions were towards his daughter and he’d responded by asking for permission to marry her. The old soldier had given him the same look as he was doing now, and Alexander felt as if he could sense what the man thinking.
Bill stepped back slowly, looking across to Christine, noting how her skin had somehow darkened to match her husbands. He looked back to Alexander, his face breaking out into a broad smile.
“I always knew there was more to you than met the eye, son, I just never thought it would be this. Well, this really is a turn up for the books, and no mistake,” he finally said, extending his hand for Alexander to shake it.
Retracting his gauntlet, Alexander took the outstretched hand, noting how Bill’s eyes had widened as the metal flowed backwards into the wrist. He returned the smile with one of his own, surprised at the strength of his own feelings at seeing Bill again, realising just how fond he was of the man standing in front of him.
Bill turned and pulled the blankets off the bed, wrapping them around himself and sitting on the edge, motioning they should make themselves comfortable.
“It’s bloody cold in here, especially now the winter blizzards have set in,” he said, “be a good girl and shove a few of the logs on, Ena,” pointing to the fire that had almost gone out in the hearth. Christine shared a look with Alexander, then moved away, picking up several and arranging them in a tripod shape, taking care not to put the fire out.
“Watch this, Dad,” she called over softly to Bill, attracting his attention, then fired a low-powered laser into one of the logs, causing it to catch fire. She looked up at her father. “What do you think of that, then?”
“Now you’re showing off, Ena. Just turning up in these here suits is miracle enough for me. All you are doing now is gilding the lily,” replied Bill, replacing his smile with a more serious expression.
“Now then, you two, I think I’m owed an explanation.”
It took them over an hour to answer all of his questions, until finally, Bill had run out and sat there without talking. Christine and Alexander were both been surprised at how readily he had accepted their explanations. He had interjected a few times when he didn’t fully understand what they were saying, but for the most part, his questioning had been succinct and business-like.
“Dad, I’m taken aback by how calmly you seem to have adjusted to all this,” Christine said, “you do understand this is not a dream?”
Bill chuckled and smiled at his daughter. “I know I’m not dreaming, love. My feet are too bloody cold for it to be one.” He looked at them both, his eyes finally holding Alexander’s.
“As I said earlier, I always knew something wasn’t quite right, but I held my tongue, for I sensed there was no malice in you.” He nodded at Alexander, who smiled lopsidedly back at him.
“When I was lying there in France, my guts on fire and bleeding out, I didn’t quite pass out. I could feel myself fading away, and then Alex here injected me with something that began bringing me back. Proper strange it was too. Of course, I didn’t know what it was or what he’d done, how could I, but I suspected he was behind it. When I properly came to, most of the pain had gone, and I was feeling much better.” Bill turned to Christine, “Before that, there were the bullet holes in his outfit after carrying me out of the ditch. He had several mo
re after blowing the bridge, and I knew for a fact he must have been hit at least twice.” He looked back to Alexander. “Am I wrong, son?” he asked, his eyebrows raised.
“No, Bill. I didn’t realise you had noticed, “Alexander replied, impressed by his powers of observation.
“I told you, not much gets past an old soldier like me, didn’t I,” Bill stated. He continued talking. “I wasn’t the only one, either. Several of the men came up to me and asked a few pointed questions about you, but we figured all of us owed you for blowing the bridge and saving our bacon, so we decided to keep our mouths shut. Then there were those stories you told about outer space and that curious innocence about you, Alex. In many ways smarter than me, in others almost as ignorant as a newborn. I don’t know what you did to me back there, but since then I’ve felt twenty years younger. Nothing hurts anymore. Even the young recruits have a job keeping up with me now, and I’m over twice their age. It wasn’t hard to put the pieces all together and come up with something close to the truth.”
Bill looked at them both in turn. “Am I wrong?”
“No Bill, you are not wrong “ replied Alexander, “I only regret not being able to tell you before now, as I hated lying to you.”
“Think nothing of it, Alex, I would have done the same thing in your shoes had our positions been reversed, and that’s a fact.” He looked again at Christine and smiled. “What is doing my head in is that my little girl is going to be the next Empress of the galaxy or whatever you call that empire of yours.” He shook his head. “My little girl.”
Sensing they were going to say something, Bill spoke first, “Before you ask, I’m not going away with you.”
Christine and Alexander exchanged looks.
“Dad, how…?”
“I’m not stupid, love. You didn’t come all the way here just to say hello. Come on, think a bit more highly of your father.”
Imperium: Coda: Book Three in the Imperium Trilogy Page 27