by T. R. Harris
This complicated their plans to no end. Zac may avoid being shipped off with the fleet, but the mothership couldn’t stay parked in orbit forever without someone asking questions, especially after the other ships leave.
And so they sat, watching newscasts, secretly hoping that Zac would be caught. At least then they’d know where he was.
With his team following Darion Crolous, Kallen Zaphin tried a different approach to find the person—or people—who helped Zac Murphy escape.
It had to do with those who had access to the video recording of the interview. That wasn’t hard to find out, but his interest piqued when he learned that Crolous personally monitored Nassmar’s interview. His heart leaped at the discovery, although it was noted that she had visual only, with no sound, as her responsibility was only to activate the security collar should Murphy attack. Still, it was too much of a coincidence. As far as he could tell, Sornum De’lason had nothing to do with the recording. Here was the evidence Kallen needed to take to Nassmar, and he did so with a spring in his step. He already had Crolous under surveillance. With the proper resources, she would lead them to the Human.
“We know of Darion Crolous,” Torin Nassmar informed Kallen after he laid out his evidence. “However, it is a false lead. We have already tracked the entry code that accessed the full file to Sornum De’lason. The evidence is conclusive. She took the video file and arranged for the release of the collar. There is nothing else we need. However, with her in custody, she has been unwilling to disclose the location of the Human. Rather, she continues to espouse her innocence.”
“Does it not seem too convenient to you?” Kallen asked. “At each turn, there is evidence that De’lason did this. Sloppy evidence that you would have imagined a trained security officer would know how to avoid.”
“That may be true, but there is nothing that directly links Darion Crolous to the escape.”
Kallen looked at his datapad. “There is this,” he began. “You have narrowed the origin of the broadcast signal to the north of Sanfor. A relative of Crolous’s first companion has a dwelling north of the city.”
“As do I, Zaphin. We have checked all her local residences and found no evidence of wrongdoing.”
“Her first-mate is a communications expert; he would have access to the equipment they would need. De’lason does not have any such expertise in her background or immediate family.”
“Please, Kallen,” said Nassmar, frustration evident in his voice. “We have an excellent case against De’lason, and the protests that were building are now fading. The immediate threat is over. Eventually, Zac Murphy will be caught. He is the lone Human on Voris. He cannot hide—or be hidden—forever.”
“But the fleet will be gone for Earth by then.”
“And you will miss the opportunity to salve your wounded pride by forcing the Human to watch the destruction of his homeworld. I can do nothing about that. It is personal with you, but it is not for me. Zac Murphy has served his purpose to the Azlorean cause. That is all that is important to me.”
“I wish to speak to Sornum De’lason.”
Nassmar frowned. “Why?”
“Perhaps I can glean information from her your inquisitors could not.”
“A rather condescending remark.”
“Forgive me, but what difference would it make if I try?”
Nassmar waved his hand. “Very well; do what you want. Now leave me. I have much more important matters to tend to.”
Kallen went directly to the holding center for the prisoner, requiring a call the Nassmar to confirm his right. The Azlorean female sat up on her bed when Kallen entered.
“You are the Antaerean,” Sornum accused. “You are the one who brought Zac Murphy to our planet.”
At first, Kallen was confused, thinking she knew the truth about the deception. Then he realized she was speaking literally. He did bring the Human to the surface of Voris.
“You state that you had nothing to do with the escape of Zac Murphy,” Kallen barked, getting directly to the point.
“I did not! Why would I? I hate the Humans as much as anyone. Many I know died in the attack. And now, even Azloreans are being conscripted to go fight a war from which they may never return.”
“That would be an incentive for you to stop your people from going to war by allowing the Human to escape and to spread his lies.”
“I did nothing wrong. It was Darion Crolous!”
“Why would she do this to you?”
“We have always been competitors, ever since training. And she knows that I have requested a transfer into her department, with aims of replacing her as supervisor. Those facts are not in dispute. She wants to ruin me so that she can preserve her position.”
“Why would she want to help the Human?”
Sornum De’lason shook her head. “I know not why. It is against the will of the Sacred Knowers to help such a vile creature. Darion is evil. That is all I can say.”
Kallen studied the female for a long moment. She appeared to be genuinely distraught, weary and defeated. He believed her. He had no reason not to trust the evidence against her, but from the beginning, he couldn’t believe how incredibly careless she had been if she was indeed the traitor. Now he was more confident than ever that the wrong person was in custody.
He left the cell with a communicator to his ear, checking on the whereabouts of Darion Crolous. She was on the move and heading north.
Chapter 20
Darion Crolous was feeling good, the best she’d felt since the Human attack on Voris. Her plan was working, as evidenced by the information she’d received before leaving her workstation.
The Inquisitors had traced Sornum’s access code to the computer storing the full video of the interview, closing the lid on the investigation. Her co-workers were in shock when it was announced Sornum was the Human’s accomplice, having assisted the mass murderer in his escape. They couldn’t believe it, but the evidence was overwhelming.
Darion knew she couldn’t access the computer file herself. The part of the plan calling for Sornum to be blamed appeared to her at the spur of the moment. At the time, the idea to steal a copy of the file was impromptu. Using Sornum’s code seemed natural. Darion smiled. Little was her nemesis aware that Darion had known the code for a couple of years and used it occasionally to access her computer files. That was how she learned of Sornum’s plans to replace her as supervisor. There had never been any love lost between the two, but after that, it was full-on war. The other part of the plan—planting a false release module in the security collar with Sornum’s fingerprints on it—that took a little more planning. But all was in place before Darion went to visit the alien in his cell.
And now that the search for his accomplice was over, Darion felt it safe enough to travel again.
It had been over sixty days since she last visited her Bloodnor at his new residence. That was right after it had been built and he moved in. Being a Bloodnor, their relationship would be harder to trace should it come to that. Fortunately, it hadn’t. She was in the clear.
She entered the massive community development at dusk, as the hundreds of automated builders worked around the clock. She could see hundreds more completed units since the last time she was here. These would be the less expensive residences, those farther from the river. Kinos’s home had been one of the first built, occupying one of the most prime locations along the river. Although inexpensive by city standards, it was of decent size, even if the building quality was lacking. But that was how most residences were built these days, by machines. People had more important things to do than manual labor.
She pulled into the driveway and was granted access to the under-structure parking. Climbing the stairs to the main floor, she found the greatroom filled with her co-conspirators. She could read their expressions. They were a combination of both relief and concern, relief that the search for the active accomplice was over, but concern for the status of their movement.
Greet
ings were made, including with three new people to the cabal, vocal members of the anti-war movement who had been outed by the government and the media. Their residences were vandalized, and their lives threatened, so they sought refuge with Kinos. The others in the room were Kinos, Skor and Innos Dormis, her young Bloodnoc. And there was the Human. He had only been in the house for nine days but had already grown hair on his face. Darion cringed. Excess hair on a male was acceptable—for animals. But not for people. Then she shrugged. Perhaps the habit fit the creature. Although she believed the tragedy that befell her planet was part of a much larger plan perpetrated by her others within the government, she did not consider the Human a friend or even a welcomed guest. He was an alien who had come to Voris expecting to cause significant damage. Yes, he and his people were at war with the unpredictable Seken. And perhaps everything they did was in self-defense. But the Humans are proficient killers—chillingly bloodthirsty killers—especially the Human breed known as REVs.
Everyone took seats. They weren’t here for a social visit. They had come together to plan the next phase of their movement since the first phase was failing miserably.
“How could we have so miscalculated,” said one of the newcomers, Sonon Fewnis. “It was not supposed to have gone like this.”
“It was the reach of the conspirators that we underestimated,” Darion stated. “We knew they were within the government, but not that they had complete control. And as such, they have control of the message. They have turned citizens against citizens, claiming all who subscribe to the belief of a conspiracy to be traitors. They control the media and the communication systems. They have organized groups to harass and harangue those who dare to speak out, as you well know.”
“It is more,” said her first-companion, Skor. “The altered videos have been most effective. They have transposed the truth, making the real recording out to be the fake. And they have confiscated every known copy, even as new ones are being downloaded with each broadcast by the Human. Our message is not getting out, and our movement is dying before it has even begun.”
“That is why we are here,” Darion said. “We need a new approach. We cannot give up now. The fleet will launch in days, and we are no closer to stopping it than the day we started.”
“I have the list,” said Kinos almost under his breath. He handed a datapad to Darion.
“What list is that?” Zac asked, feeling out of place in the meeting. He was doing his part, but nothing else. He couldn’t stick his neck out in public, and there was no cavalry coming to save him. Either Darion’s effort succeed, or Zac would die on Voris. If not sooner, then later.
Darion looked guilty as she began speaking. “We have been tracing the associates of Torin Nassmar, and to a lesser degree, Kallen Zaphin. Through our research, we have identified another sixteen possible co-conspirators within the Semitor and elsewhere.”
“What are you going to do with the names?” Zac followed-up.
“We are not sure. We could try exposing them, but for that, we would need more evidence. Or we could take more active measures.”
“Assassinations?”
“As a last resort. The authorities have used drastic measures to stifle our protests. Perhaps it is time to do the same against our enemy.”
Zac shook his head. “Don’t get me wrong; I’m all for assassinations when they’re done right. But you’re not a bunch of killers. All killing these guys will do is give the government more ammunition to use against you. It’s obvious they don’t give a damn about the people—hell, they helped slaughter eighteen million of your—”
“You did that,” said one of the other newcomers.
“Coros, please,” said Darion. “You, more than most, understand the circumstances.”
“It is a fact, no matter the background.”
Zac smirked at the native. “Even so, if you start killing off government officials, they’ll turn their weapons against you. Believe me. I’ve seen it done before.”
“Then what do you suggest?” said Coros, the obstinate native.
“I don’t know. But let’s put assassinations on hold for a while until we’ve discussed other options.”
And discuss they did, until it was way past dark, and with no consensus. The video had been their best weapon to prove a conspiracy existed. That had been blown out of the water. A whole new approach had to be found, and soon.
The drone wasn’t any larger than the second thumb of an Azlorean. It rested on top of the pinnacle dome above the greatroom, recording every word being said below. When those in the house took a break, it flew off and returned to its point of origin.
A slender, yellow-skinned being recovered the flying device and placed it in a small container. The recording had already been downloaded to the Tesnin’s datapad. The spy’s communicator softly chimed a moment later.
“Where are you?” said the most-famous voice in Antaerean society, one that had not been heard on Antara for far too long.
“Across the river in the forest. The others are on the main street, well back and out of sight.”
“Good,” said Kallen Zaphin. “Do not make any moves of your own unless necessary. We are tracking a REV.”
“Understood.”
Kallen knew he did.
“I will call Nassmar and have him send in his troops. We cannot handle Zac Murphy alone. Report on any movement out of the ordinary. I am on my way.”
Chapter 21
Zac Murphy stood looking out through the wide expanse of patio doors at the scene beyond. It was well past dark, and the solitary moon of Voris had risen, casting sparkling reflections on the river behind the house. The waters glistened, with the movement clearly visible by the reflections, moving left to right. It was tranquil and relaxing and in sharp contrast to the tension and frustration in the room. They had discussed their options for hours and were no closer to a solution than when they started. A government was a powerful enemy, and the Azlorean Semitor had nearly every institution on the planet under its direct control.
Zac had already accepted the fact that the Azloreans fleet was going to set sail with the Seken on a mission to destroy Earth. The battle for his homeworld was still several months away, but it was coming. The efforts of he and his fellow renegades had failed miserably. All it had done is make them and their few followers the pariahs of Azlorean society. Without something drastic happening, the future looked bleak for General Zac Murphy, along with the rest of mankind.
He noticed the break in the consistent reflections on the water just as he was preparing to return to the discussion. It seemed odd, out of place. Pushing a little extra Rev into his system, his already remarkable eyesight improved even more, giving him a form of night vision.
There, in the grey of night, they became clear as day; two boats racing toward the shore behind the house, loaded with black-uniformed commandos.
Zac ran back to the center of the room.
“Listen up; we’ve been found out. Boats are crossing the river. The front will also be covered.”
Zac was staggered by the multiple sets of four eyes that widened to unbelievable proportions. He shook it off. “Everyone get to the underground parking area. There’s a vent on the south side of the house. We can get out through there. It leads under the deck with about four feet of clearance.”
“How do you know that?” the native Coros asked.
“I’ve spent nine days here. I’ve had plenty of time to survey the property for ingress and egress, as well as defensive positions.”
“What do we do when we get there?”
“Make for the river. Get in it and let the current carry you downriver.”
“The water is cold this time of year.”
“Do it, or die—I don’t give a damn!”
Zac turned to Kinos. “Do you have any weapons in the house?”
The homeowner looked confused. “Weapons? No. Only the government is allowed to have weapons.”
Zac smirked. “You mean th
e government that directly—or indirectly—just killed eighteen million of its citizens? Smart move there, buddy. What about knives?”
“Yes, in the prep room.”
Zac knew where they were, but all he’d seen were small dinner knives. He was looking for something a lot more substantial. He rummaged through drawers until he found a set of carving knives. Taking the longest and most substantial, he raced down the stairs to the parking structure. The natives were huddled at one end, next to the ventilation screen. They were waiting for him.
“We shall defer to your expertise, Zac Murphy,” Darion said.
He knew what she meant. Let the REV take the lead. That was smart.
Zac pulled the screen away and climbed out, crawling on his belly as he heard footfalls on the wooden deck above. It was cold and muddy under the deck, but Zac ignored both. He used the mud to coat his body, giving him cover in the darkness. Behind him, the others slowly followed. At this point, Zac didn’t care much about them. He was in survival mode, and the natives would only slow him down.
Near the water’s edge, Zac looked out with his enhanced night vision and spotted two sets of commandos, each moving on the sand and rocks toward the house. Others were on the deck. A moment later, glass broke above him, and there came yelling and flashbangs.
Zac knew the natives had beam weapons that were lethal to REVs. And all he had was a knife. His priority was to acquire a weapon, a real weapon.
The closest group of commandos was about twenty feet away. They were on the right side of the house had split into two squads of three each. When the timing was right, Zac burst from under the deck and covered the distance in a little over a second. His mud-covered body kept him hidden until the last moment. Three quick slashes, and the soldiers were dead. He scooped up their weapons and looked for the other squad.