A Kind of Peace

by Andy Boot

  Back home, she would have stopped and laughed along with the others, maybe joined those who tried to intervene as the situation turned rapidly into a melee, but here she was in a foreign land, and she had work to do.

  Nervously glancing around her, she rummaged on the racks in the back of the vehicle, where clothes were hanging, bagged and ready for delivery. She found the old woman's costume easily enough, hanging near the doors. To find male clothing, she had to risk stepping up into the vehicle itself. How she would deal with discovery she had no idea. She preferred not to think of it. She cast a glance around as she stepped in, hoping she had not been spotted.

  Inside, the vehicle smelt of chemical dyes and cleaning agents. It was dark, and the metal had absorbed the heat of the day, making it a sweat box. The women's clothes she clutched were clammy in her hand. With her heart racing and sweat pouring into her eyes, she raced through the clothes, searching for something that seemed to be the right size. After what seemed an age, she found something and snatched it from the rack, balling it up with the women's clothing as small as she could.

  Taking a careful look out of the back of the vehicle, she could see that while it seemed an age to her, it was actually no time at all. The furore outside had still not resolved itself and she was able to leave the vehicle and slip away without being noticed.

  "This is really too much! I fail to see how disguising myself as a woman will do any good whatsoever," Bey complained as he pulled on the headdress and secured the veil so that only his eyes were showing.

  "Save it!" Simeon said shortly. "First thing we need to do is steal ourselves a vehicle and head out of Ilvarn."

  "They'll be expecting us to do that," Jenna said

  "Look, we need to get out of Ilvarn fast, and Ramus is an old man who can't walk that far or that fast. I figure we have more options if we can get into the mountains. There are more places to hide."

  His tone would brook no argument, and in truth, she could think of nothing better in the short term. So, the three of them suitably disguised cast off the charm and became visible once more. They headed up the alleyway.

  "Take his arm like he's your mother," Simeon whispered, "and leave any talking to me."

  The streets were no longer the bustling thoroughfares that Jenna had experienced a short while before. The crowds were thinning out as the day slid into evening and there were armed warriors patrolling the streets. Bey leaned into Jenna, as though he were frail, and Simeon stayed one pace ahead of them, as he had noticed was the norm.

  He still had only the vaguest notion of where they were in the capital, but figured that as soon as he could steal a vehicle, he had a strong enough grasp of the local dialect to use road directions to get them out. He had a notion to try and take a battlecruiser, if he could work out how to break into a base. Either that or go for the long haul and the coast, maybe steal a boat and try to reach neutral territory.

  The easiest thing would be to head for the Bethel embassy. But there were too many factors militating against this. It would be closely watched by the Varn military and there was the strong possibility that their presence would not be desired by certain elements within their own ministry.

  Come to that, reaching home would only be half the battle. How would they be greeted? What exactly was the attitude of the Chief Minister to them right now?

  One thing at a time. Get out of Ilvarn.

  Simeon was careful to take them on a route that avoided the possibility of accidentally doubling back. Despite the disguise, he did not look like a native of Varn, and Ramus was hardly a typical old woman. Already, they had attracted some curious second glances from passers by. Luckily, they had not yet been challenged, but he had no wish to ride his luck too far.

  They found a domestic vehicle after too long wandering around. Bey's pace had slowed, and the old man was obviously becoming exhausted. Tighter security had made it harder to find open vehicles. On those few occasions when he had come close, Simeon had been dissuaded at the last by the appearance of warrior patrols in the streets.

  It was a small vehicle, but just large enough for the three of them. The power levels were low, but enough to get them out of the city if he was careful. He jumped the ignition code and drew away slowly, hoping that the owner would not grace them with their presence.

  "I hope you can read these signs as well as you assume," Ramus-Bey muttered from the back of the vehicle. "For if we have to get out and make a run for it, then I fear you will have to leave me behind."

  "After coming all this way to get you? Not a chance," Simeon replied. "Anyway, I came top of the course when we did basic Varnian dialects in training."

  But what the old had man said did give him cause for concern. To come this far and have to give up Bey would make a mockery of their efforts. Yet, unless he could come up with a plan - any plan - that extended beyond getting out into the mountains, they would like as kill the Mage from exhaustion as be able to carry him back to Bethel.

  Simeon did everything he could to make them as inconspicuous as possible. He took an indirect route onto the highway leading out of the city, keeping his speed low and being particularly attentive to the etiquette of the road. He wanted nothing to occur that could attract the attentions of the warrior patrols.

  Finally, after a nerve-jangling trip around the outer edges of Ilvarn, he headed for the turn-off that would take them up into the mountains. Along the way, he had taken note of the number of checkpoints and the way in which they operated.

  There were three main highways that led to the mountain roads. Each of these had a checkpoint at the turn-off. Each checkpoint was manned by a warrior, who would stop and search vehicles working on a pattern of every fourth vehicle. He had driven past his chosen turn-off at the beginning of their trip and had verified their practices by taking a ring-road detour to double and triple check. He was aware that it was using what little power he had in the vehicle, but what use would power be if they blundered into capture?

  The fact that their system was so rigidly applied suggested to him that the checkpoint warriors had no idea what they were looking for. As long as they could remain inconspicuous, they would be safe.

  As they approached the turn-off, he counted vehicles. There was one being checked, and three cars between theirs and the warrior patrol. It was an irony that the back-up caused by the checkpoint enabled him to allow another vehicle to slip into a gap he created, and thus replace them as the next to be pulled over.

  "Jen, talk to me like we're having an argument," he said as the vehicle in front was pulled over. "No way will they want a domestic dispute on top of this."

  It worked. They were waved through by a warrior who gave Simeon a look universally recognised as sympathy.

  Once on the mountain road Simeon was able to, if not relax, then at least be a little less tense. There was a turn-off within a few poles for the city's civilian air terminal, and most of the traffic was headed there.

  Within a short while, they were the only vehicle in sight on the highway. Simeon checked the power, which was running into the 'pulse alert' zone on the indicator dial.

  "Time to bail," the warrior said softly, turning the vehicle onto the shoulder of the highway. It was fortunate that there was little lighting or surveillance tech on such isolated stretches. With luck, the vehicle would not be found for hours.

  With the help of Simeon and Jenna, Ramus-Bey was able to negotiate the treacherously rocky terrain that began almost as soon as they were away from the road. Such were the steep crops of rock and the sparse vegetation that they were hidden from the highway within moments.

  "I'm sorry... I fear that I am already almost done for," the Mage panted as Simeon set a strong pace.

  "Don't worry, we won't go much further," Simeon replied. "I just want to find us some shelter for the night, somewhere we can rest."

  "And what then?" Jenna questioned.

  Simeon sucked in his breath. "That, Jen, is one of the things we've got to decide w
hile we're resting."

  Hopefully, he added to himself, while we're trying to work it out circumstance will overtake us, Gods alone know they have so far.

  CHAPTER SEVENTEEN

  Year Zero - Period Three

  They found a small cave. Barely more than a recess in the rock. It tapered from an opening taller than Simeon to a point where it was necessary to scramble on their hands and knees to go further. Even then, the cave was barely the length of two men, and scarcely wider. Scant consolation that being pressed so close together preserved the warmth of their bodies, they dare not build a fire for fear of being seen. Already, in the distance, they could hear the low-level buzzing of reconnaissance craft, sent to scout the land around Ilvarn for any sign of them.

  Ramus-Bey fell into an immediate and deep sleep. Jenna and Simeon stayed awake for some time, trying to formulate a plan. The only thing they could agree on was that they were both to be found wanting when it came to imaginative strategies.

  "Your problem," Jenna yawned, "is that you're re-active, not pro-active. Ask you to do something and you sit there with your brain ticking so loudly I can hear it. But pitch you into a situation, and you come up with something."

  "Your faith in me is touching," he muttered with more than a hint of sarcasm.

  She touched his arm. "No, you don't get it do you? I can't even re-act. I don't know how. I don't have that warrior instinct that you do. Look, you've got us this far. I hate to tell you this, but I think it's up to you from here on."

  They sat in silence. He didn't know what to say to her. Simeon wasn't going to lie, yet at the same time he did not wish to take away her hope.

  Eventually, she fell asleep, her gentle breathing contrasting with the rasp that emanated from the sleeping Mage. Simeon disentangled himself from her and crawled out of the mouth of the cave. The night sky was clear, and the chill winds that crawled through the mountains prickled at his skin. He was tired, but he could not sleep.

  He looked over the terrain leading back to the highway. It would be surprising if their vehicle had not been discovered by now. If he was in command of the search, he would have spread it out beyond the city. They were safe for the moment though. The terrain was rough and rocky, with little to leave a trail for any tracker. But, given a little time, there would be something that anyone with experience of the terrain could pick up on. From there, finding them would be simple, and what did they have to defend themselves? Blasters with drained energy cells and an exhausted Mage who doubted his own powers.

  He sighed. It didn't look good.

  Up in the sky, distant stars battled for attention with the flickering lights of airships. There were many of them: far more than you would expect for a simple reconnaissance. Furthermore, they were in all sectors of the sky, rather than concentrated over Ilvarn. There was nothing stately about their intent. It took him some while before the import of their presence struggled through the fogged tiredness that was clouding his mind. When it did strike him, it was as though he had plunged into an icy pool.

  The direction. The size.

  There was more than one fleet up there. More than one nation state.

  It looked like the peace was over.

  Belthan

  Deep in the bowels of the Ministry building, Daliel waited for his pet minister to come to him.

  On another level, in a chamber overlooking the busy streets of the capital, twelve men were gathered around a table. At the head stood the Chief Minister. The table was oval, made of a hardwood lacquered and varnished over generations to a blackened sheen. Legend had it that this was the very table over which the war had first been declared, half a millennium before. Certainly, it was the same table over which the formula for the peace had been studied and discussed.

  Now it was the table over which war was, once again, to be declared, but not willingly.

  Eleven men sat around the table, uneasy, none wishing to be the one who would break the silence and drive the Chief Minister to an even more apoplectic state.

  "Well? Will no one tell me the truth?" The minister thundered, emphasising 'truth' with a slamming of his fist on the table.

  Another queasy pause, broken eventually by the most junior minister present. He was tall and blonde, and as he spoke his mind drifted to the man waiting for him in another part of the building.

  "Minister, it would be a reasonable assumption to work from that all we know could be false. Should I say, all we think we know..."

  "Cretin! Ramus-Bey is gone. Simeon 7 is gone. We know this. Gods alive, man, we saw it with our own eyes!"

  "That isn't what I meant, Minister. Those facts are evident. But from this we have extrapolated much that is little more than supposition. We do not know for certain that the Mage is in Varn, neither do we know for sure that that is where the man Simeon 7 has headed. We do not know that Varn was behind the attack on the Institute, neither have we been able to confirm or deny the existence of a plot within certain elements of our own ministry and military networks to make it seem as though Varn were behind these actions. In truth, we know very little for certain. And on this basis we are prepared to plunge Inan into another war?"

  While he spoke, the minister sitting directly opposite, another junior, shook his head with increasing vehemence. As the last syllables hung heavy in the room, he rose to his feet.

  "We are defenceless without the Mage. The parity between nation states is based on the presence of such a threat in each of those very states. We must act, before we are overrun. All other nation states recognise the significance of what has occurred, and have made tacit agreements to either stand down or to back us. After all, if Varn can strike at Bethel in such a manner, what is to prevent them doing the same to Kyas, or to Turith?"

  The Chief Minister listened to the man, then gestured him to be seated.

  "Gentlemen, there is truth in both arguments. Truth and sense. But while we thrash around in a puddle of muddy speculation, time passes. With each passing moment the danger to our nation state increases. Already we have been without our ultimate defence for too long. Our vulnerability increases with the day. Varn, for her own reasons, says nothing to either confirm or deny the accusations. This stalemate cannot be allowed to continue. The people clamour for action. They are right. Only action will tip the hand of the enemy.

  "Ready the air fleet. We mount the attack as soon as possible. You have all the orders you need, gentlemen. Now leave me to consider all our fates."

  The Chief Minister turned his back on the men at the table. He looked down on the streets below. Exchanging looks between them, realising that a decisive moment had been reached, the eleven ministers and junior ministers rose from the table and headed for their respective offices. From there, they had set procedures for such times. Procedures they thought they had seen an end of a short time before.

  For one junior minister, there was a greater and more pressing concern. One that awaited him in his office.

  Ilvarn

  The Chief Minister and Vixel were alone in the minister's chambers. Sumptuous hangings in richly dyed, thick fabrics covered the walls. They served more than a decorative purpose. Through them, little sound could bleed in or out of the chamber, and right now the Chief Minister valued the privacy this bought.

  "You just let them go... you... just...let...them...go!" His fury mounting to a scream with every drawn out word, the Minister stalked the floor, pausing to turn and yell in Vixel's face. "What were you thinking man? You could have stopped them with ease."

  Vixel, despite the humiliation and anger he felt at being talked to in such a manner - similar to one he would frequently use with his adepts - remained on the surface a picture of calm and composure. Only the glittering points of his eyes revealed any indication of his true feelings. When he spoke, his tone was as calm and wryly detached as ever.

  "Of course I could have stopped them. Of course I could have locked horns with a fellow Mage. Of course I could have risked a magical battle in which neithe
r would give ground, escalating the use of power until we succeeded only in reducing Inan to ashes. Of course I could have done that... but somehow, I didn't think that it would have been advisable."

  "Don't try and be funny with me," the Minister hissed, coming up so close that the Mage could feel flecks of spittle hit him in the face. "You told me that he was a senile old fool."

  Calmly, Vixel took out a kerchief and dabbed at his face. "And so he is. But that does not mean that I was willing to risk one last throw of the die so early in the proceedings. The military should have been able to deal with them. Their failure is the greater."

  "What about your academy? Where were they when this was happening?" Again, the sarcastic hiss, the spittle in the face.

  Vixel dabbed at his face once more. "We had what, in the interest of economy, I shall call a doctrinal dispute. I shall deal with them as appropriate. I should think that we have greater matters of import. With the fool Bey at large, and Bethel threatening war, I would have thought it politic to track him down and eliminate him as soon as possible."

  The Minister was visibly shaken. "Kill him? But the idea was to show him off to the world, to reveal the plot within Bethel, to make ourselves the saviours of peace on Inan. This..."

  "Is the only option left to us," Vixel interrupted. "The plan was based on Bey being useless. I think we can no longer take that chance. Besides, his presence here is known, and if not known then widely assumed and taken as fact. Circumstances have changed, can you not see that?"

  The Minister turned away, mind racing. Such a course of action...