A Kind of Peace

by Andy Boot

  For the first time in over a day, the Chief Minister felt able to relax. The executive body, sensing this cautiously let a collective sigh escape.

  "They are terminated. Bethel, too, played her part. Wherever we have to go from here, I think that every nation state can be in no doubt now that there is more to this situation than a simple division of blame. Gentlemen, I feel sure that war has, for the moment, been averted."

  "Sir, while our relief at this cannot be too strongly conveyed, ought we to think about our own Mage? After all, the man had a part in the taking of Ramus-Bey, and has signally refused to assist us in the mopping-up operation. His loyalty to the nation state must surely be called into question?"

  The Chief Minister fixed a look on the junior who had spoken. There were a myriad of reasons why he could not let Vixel be taken in and interrogated. Leaving aside the fact that he, himself, would be implicated in the twisted planning that had led them this far, there was also the problem of Vixel himself. He had remained aloof from this fight. Did he have the powers he professed? Could his judgement be trusted?

  If the Mage had powers on a level with those shown by Bey, then he was dangerous. If he had been right about Bey, and this morning's display had just been the last flutterings of a senile talent, then what was Vixel truly capable of? More, his character must be considered. He had proven himself to be headstrong, egotistical, and erratic.

  A danger to Inan? To Varn? More importantly, to the Chief Minister himself?

  Finally, he answered the junior's question.

  "Our Mage is an asset to the nation state of Varn. Until there is a man of equal power in the land, his status must remain unquestioned. His loyalty to the public and - more importantly - to other nation states is beyond question. Do I make myself clear?"

  However, he was already pondering how practical it would be to effect an assassination of the Mage. Some dangers were best stamped on while still small.

  Simeon had swiftly ascertained that the crew of a battlecruiser numbered one hundred and fifty, including the three flight deck crew before him. Unless called for, there were no routine tasks that would bring them to the deck. The trick would be to keep them at their posts and working as usual when they realised that the vessel had turned and headed for Bethel.

  "All orders come from the flight deck, am I right?" questioned Jenna.

  "Ah..." Vash's hesitation suggested he was forming a deception.

  "Remember that, as a Kyan holoship Ensign, I served alongside Varn flight crew during the war," she added. He wasn't to know the truth, she reasoned.

  Vash shrugged. "I can't see how you're going to do this, so what does it matter? Of course your assumption is correct."

  "Then deliver new orders through the comm-system. Varn is to strike back against Bethel oppression, and the current airborne fleet is to form the spearhead. As such, preparation will be made to turn and head for Belthan."

  "Irregular, to say the least. From a purely academic point of view," Vash continued, his eye fixed on Simeon's weapon, "do you really expect the crew to accept this out of hand?"

  Simeon smiled. "It's amazing what we'll swallow when it comes from a voice in authority, Commander. You will make it sound convincing, and they'll have no trouble following orders. Exceptional times make for exceptional orders, that kind of thing."

  Vash shrugged. He found himself in an unsettled frame of mind. Resigned to the fact that he had little option other than comply or be killed, he was actually beginning to enjoy working out the reasoning used by the intruders, and to attempt to second guess their moves. For instance:

  "I suppose you have given the matter of our power reserves some thought?" he said suddenly, stopping short of the comm-desk.

  Jenna answered: "Battlecruisers have pulse engines that work on a recycle principle. The use of virtual perpetual generation allows them a propulsion capacity that will keep them afloat for a period without landing. Although swift motion eats the power faster, there's still enough on the average battlecruiser to circle Inan three times without needing to refuel. I'm guessing you weren't sent aloft this morning without a full emergency refit and check."

  "Very good," Vash murmured. "I'm terribly, terribly impressed."

  Jenna grinned at Simeon as Vash leaned into the comm-desk and delivered orders along the lines proscribed by the warrior. He was, it had to be said, extremely convincing. His voice was firm and commanding, his words chosen with care to demonstrate to his captors a complete lack of ambiguity.

  "Will that do?" he asked, flicking off the internal comm-transmitter.

  "You're being very co-operative," Simeon commented. "I wonder why?"

  Vash shrugged. "I'm curious to see how you intend to carry this one off."

  Simeon said no more to him, but turned instead to the Mage, who had remained silent.

  "Well?" The warrior questioned.

  "Yes," the Mage said at length, "it's time for me to take over, isn't it?"

  Belthan - The Ministry

  A room similar to that in Ilvarn. A conference table and bank of holomonitors similar to that in Ilvarn.

  There, the similarities end. The Chief Minister stares out of the window at the teeming streets below. The people are in uproar. Half of them demonstrate for war to be declared on the old enemy, the other half demonstrate for an end to that war, ignoring the fact that it has not yet officially begun.

  "Chaos. The lack of order, the lack of discipline. Nothing is done, nothing is achieved. People running around without the slightest notion of why. Is this what this great nation state is about? Is this what we have become?"

  The executive exchanged worried glances. None were able to judge the reaction that was required of them.

  The Chief Minister turned to the assembled ministers.

  "They are saying that I am behind this pre-emptive action. They are saying that, as the Chief Minister, I ordered this attack. Why are they saying this?"

  Another exchange of nervous glances. A tall, blonde junior minister, nervously clearing his throat, took it upon himself to speak.

  "Sir, your orders..."

  "I gave no orders!" The Chief Minster turned and brought his fist down on the desk The crash sounded loudly in the otherwise hushed room, the holomonitors blinking and flashing their images in silence.

  "But... but... I have the comm history here, sir," the junior stammered, brandishing a sheet. "I received an order from you, in my capacity as liaison with the air fleet arm of the military, to direct the air fleet to eliminate the Mage and the two people with him, on the grounds that he was likely to have been interrogated and mentally altered, making him a threat."

  "I have never heard such complete shit in all..."

  "Sir," another minister, with trembling hand, held up a print-out. "I was sent a reference and file copy of the message my colleague refers to... it was from your office, sir, from your personal comm."

  "Give me that!" The Chief Minister snatched the printouts. He scanned them intently, then turned and looked out at the city below, his shoulders slumped. "I did not send this message. Do you believe that?" He turned and looked each of the men around the table squarely in the eye. Most averted their gaze. He laughed mirthlessly. "Of course you don't. Why should you? The evidence is against me."

  He tailed off, looking down on the crowd. A heavy silence fell on the room.

  But for one man, it was difficult to hide his relief.

  The problem faced by Ramus-Bey, Simeon and Jenna was this: they had succeeded in boarding and then commandeering a Varnian vessel. This had the capacity to get them back to Bethel in a very short period of time. The Varnian commander was being co-operative, and had delivered orders to his crew that would see the giant battlecruiser turn and set course for the rival nation state. These orders had even been delivered in a way that would not arouse suspicion. This part of the operation had run smoothly - far more so, in fact, than could have been hoped for at the outset.

  There were, however, stil
l problems to be surmounted. Firstly, although the crew of their vessel would follow orders, these were unique to the craft. Those Varn vessels around them would seek to intercept when communication could not be established. This was not to mention the battlecruisers of the opposing Bethel air fleet, who would feel no compunction in attacking an enemy craft that may suddenly turn and head for them.

  If nothing else, being attacked by their own fleet would arouse the suspicions of the crew.

  So it was imperative that something be done. A diversionary tactic to both carve a clear path, and to keep the crew of this vessel in the dark concerning their real intent.

  "Put like that, how could I possibly refuse you?" Ramus smirked, glad to be given a chance to flex his skills once more. He had plans for when they reached Belthan, and any opportunity to clean the dust from his long-neglected practice would be more than welcome.

  The first thing he did was to examine the holding patterns of the two air fleets. Both were still in the limbo that followed the devastation of the ground below, awaiting orders from their respective Ministries. Both fleets were poised for action, awaiting only orders or the provocation of attack. As soon as their ship left its place in the holding pattern, it would attract attention. A diversion would be necessary. Ramus-Bey was determined to stay true to his word. He would not cause the deaths of any warrior, on either side, if it were at all possible. Too many warriors had already tasted death because of him. He would not set them against each other.

  But if... it was an amusing thought. He could not see how it could possibly harm any of the men and women populating the cruisers, and it would be a good test of his skills.

  With a wry smile, he looked within himself and began to ritualise the powers he was drawing on with complex shapes proscribed in the air by his hands.

  "Oh Gods alive, what is that?" Cavlar yelled, gesturing wildly at the port through which the rest of the Varn fleet was visible.

  "That's someone's idea of a joke," Simeon murmured. But if it achieved their aim, he had no intention of any further comment.

  It was a strange and unexpected sight. From nowhere, in the midst of the fleet holding pattern, three Ihere appeared, screeching and flapping their vast, leathery wings. The disruption they caused was immediate, as the battlecruisers nearest to the creatures took evasive action, invading the airspace of those cruisers and smaller attack craft near them, causing these in turn to tumble from their flight paths in evasive actions.

  The Ihere was a mythical beast, part bird and part reptile, with scaled wings, a feathered ruff, and three heads that snapped with razored bills at anything that came near. Unlike other creatures of their ilk, who survived still in small colonies on the edges of the wastelands of Hirvan, their eyes were not sharp: rather, they were dull with stupidity. Some said that the creature had never existed, other that the dullness of eye explained without further detail why they had long since been extinct.

  There was, however, nothing extinct about their behaviour in the midst of the Varn air fleet. The small attack craft broke formation, heading in to attack, the larger vessels withdrew, their commanders realising that these creatures, despite their immense size, had a greater manoeuvrability than the battlecruisers.

  None seemed to question that these creatures had appeared from nowhere, let alone that they should not, in fact, exist. The scrambled and confused welter of comm-messages that could be monitored told of only one thing, the immediate reaction to an immediate threat.

  Threat it most certainly was. None of the firepower concentrated on the creatures seemed to have any effect. If anything, it seemed to make them increase in size and speed. Their darting heads and vast wingspans threatened to swat air attack craft like irritating insects, and to dent the fuselage of any battlecruiser slow to evade.

  Such was the confusion caused that none of the commanders or pilots in the line of attack had so far realised that not a single casualty, not a single hit had been sustained.

  "Got to give you that one," Commander Vash commented, shaking his head in disbelieving appreciation, "that's what I call a diversion!"

  As the Varn fleet battled to keep shape and avoid devastation from this strange assault force, Vash directed Helmsman Cavlar through the throng, avoiding both the Ihere and the battlecruiser as they sought clear airspace.

  It was simple for the flight deck crew. As they progressed, so Ramus-Bey used his control of the thought forms to guide other craft from the flight path of their ship.

  They attained clear airspace and increased speed. It was only then that Simeon and Jenna were able to see, and to admire, the breadth of Ramus-Bey's vision.

  Some distance away, the Bethel air fleet stood off, their holding patterns preserved. They had presumably been viewing the attack on the Varn fleet with some bemusement. Such a tactic would not work on them. Besides which, it would be too simple for the Mage, and he wished to stretch himself. Not only was it vital that he sharpen his skills as quickly as possible, it was unlikely that the same kind of attack would have quite the same effect on a fleet that had already witnessed the like.

  Pulling clear of the Varn fleet, the battlecruiser on which they travelled closed fast on the Bethel fleet. It was obvious that the commanders in the fleet could sense an easy target. To them, this was just a rogue vessel running scared.

  The fleet broke formation, spreading across the sky. The flagship battlecruiser of the fleet - identifiable not from markings, but from the way it had formed the hub of the formation - moved forward to engage. It was the prerogative of the senior air commander to claim the first trophy.

  Vash leaned across. "'He will fire at us you know. We have to fire first!"

  Bey shook his head. "Not necessary."

  His eyes closed, he began to hum tunelessly to himself. Simeon recognised this from countless nights on bodyguard duty. It was a habit, a quirk of age that he did this when his attention was fully focused. As it would have to be, the warrior realised, if he were to keep up the charm that now lay behind them, as well as solving the problem that lay before.

  The two vessels closed on each other. With a gesture, Vash directed Cavlar to keep his nerve and continue on the current course even though the two vessels seemed to be on a collision course. Unless the Bethelian battlecruiser fired on them before impact.

  The two ships came closer. Vash began to sweat. He could see his life ending in a ridiculous game of chicken.

  Then it seemed as though his eyes could not be showing him what was really happening. The Bethelian ship seemed to turn up and in on itself, spiralling around, being stretched to an unnatural length and shape before heading back the way it had come.

  As if this had been the cue for which they waited, the rest of the Bethel air fleet broke rank and flew at the Varn battlecruiser.

  Each battlecruiser and small attack craft met with a similar fate. Each seemed to twist and turn on themselves, stretching unnaturally before finding themselves heading in the opposite direction.

  "That's a nice little trick, but what about when they're behind us?" Vash queried.

  "I think he'll have that one covered," Jenna commented.

  Ramus-Bey smiled, but said nothing.

  The Varn battlecruiser sped past the twisting and writhing shapes that constituted the Bethel air fleet. As the Varn ship headed towards the coast and out over the seas, the Bethel fleet gave chase. Yet, when they reached the point where sea met the land, they found themselves subject to the same phenomenon that had stopped them before. Coming out of the enforced turn, manoeuvring to try and evade whatever the barrier may be, they found themselves repeating the same phenomenon whichever way they flew. Splitting in different directions, the craft of the fleet found themselves distorting in the air in every direction, decreasing the area of untwisted space until they had turned themselves almost inside out, and had arrived at a point where stasis reigned, and they were frozen in the air.

  "I - ah - I'm not sure I really want to know," a fascinated Vash as
ked, "but what exactly did you do to them?"

  "Oh, I did nothing to the airships," Bey waved dismissively, "I just charmed the air so that their speed warped the spatial dimensions in proportion to their velocity. Inevitably, the more they tried, the more they just constricted their area of movement until they had nowhere to go. It was quite simple."

  "I'll - ah - take your word for it," Vash murmured. He glanced from Simeon to Jenna, his eyes begging explanation. Simeon shrugged, some things were better left unexplained. Jenna merely smiled.

  It had, the Commander reflected as he engaged the hyper-drive, been the most unusual mission he had ever flown.

  He did not speak again for some time, until the coast of Bethel was in sight. During that time, the only problem they had encountered had been from the navigation and surveillance crew, who had expressed concern that they were the only Varn ship to escape the strangeness, and were now alone and approaching enemy shores. It had taken all of Vash's diplomacy - aided by the sight of Simeon and Jenna brandishing weapons - to reassure the crew that orders had changed due to the skirmishes back home, and that now they were on a reconnaissance mission.

  It was, as he made all too clear, a poor excuse.

  "You are right, of course," Ramus-Bey replied after some thought. He turned to Simeon. "With your consent?" And when the warrior assented, Bey continued to speak in normal tones, although his voice now carried to every man and woman on the battlecruiser by a simple series of passes.

  "People of Varn, you have of course harboured doubts and concerns about this voyage. It is time to reveal truth. I am Ramus-Bey, Mage of Bethel. I have been travelling on your ship's flight-deck along with my two companions. Your Commander has acted with the utmost concern for your well-being, and has agreed to our demands in order to spare you. You are, indeed, lucky to have such a man at your head. He has pointed out to me that things can no longer be kept secret. He is correct, and I bow to his judgement.