“No. This is something bigger, something that needs to be done if we want to stop the Klan from doing worse things than it already has.”
“I’m listening,” said Zach, “though it’s hard to see what could be worse.”
“It’s important for Hiller to lose the election,” Terry said. “If he wins, the Klan will be in a position to wipe out a whole colony, or most of it—a colony where something that really matters is going on. I can’t tell you the details, I’m sworn to secrecy. But no price is too high to keep it from happening.”
“I’ll take your word for it,” Zach said. “I don’t like what I’ve heard of Hiller and his bunch myself. I’ll make sure everyone in my network knows not to vote for him. What more can I do?”
“The outcome can’t be left to chance,” Terry replied slowly. “The Klan has to be discredited to the public at large, and it’s got to be made plain that Hiller is backing it. The only way I see to do it will require help from Estelan supporters on Earth. You’re in touch with a lot of them, the ones willing to take risks.”
Zach gave him a penetrating look. “You know how to reach the Captain of Estel. That might be a better source of help. If he spoke out personally—”
“He will, in due course. But it will probably mean being arrested, so the timing has to be right.”
“He’d let himself be arrested over this? Has he told you so?”
Terry drew breath; the time had come when Zach had to know. “Zach, I am the Captain of Estel,” he said. “It’s always been me. I started the rumors myself, on purpose, to give people hope.”
“My God,” Zach said, recovering from shock. “I don’t know why I didn’t guess. I knew when I first saw you that you were something special.”
“Not so special. Just lucky enough to own a starship named Estel.”
“In your mind, you mean? Or have you got another one I don’t know about?”
“It’s the same ship. It’s got two transponders; the one we’ve been renaming is the fake. I had to use the real one at Stelo Haveno, which is why I changed my name.”
Zach frowned. “If you’re arrested, they’re likely to take it away from you.”
“They already did; it’s been attached under forfeiture laws. I stole it back, but I don’t expect I can do that again.” Zach didn’t need telepathy, Terry thought, to know how he felt about that. He couldn’t bear to dwell on it, so moved on rapidly, “If you’re willing to get involved in defeating Hiller, I need a major contribution.”
“You’ve got it, if it’s something I can provide.”
“I mean a financial contribution—large, but no more than wealthy donors give to political campaigns. I need you to buy me a building, one you can get possession of before the election. In any major city on Earth where you can locate one that’s suitable.”
“A building? What sort of a building?”
“Something in a public place, big enough to stand out and not too close to others. It should be cheaply constructed, no fireproof synthetics, and it doesn’t have to be in good shape; I’m only going to use it for a couple of days.”
“For a couple of days, why not rent it?”
“Because the Klan is going to burn it down and I don’t want to destroy somebody else’s property.”
“My God, Terry,” Zach said. “I take it you think they’ll be discredited if a lot of people see them in action. But they’ll realize that, won’t they? Anyway, they burn stuff to terrorize weak people—what would they get out of attacking you that way? You already know they’ve targeted you, and they’re aware that you don’t scare easily.”
“Well,” said Terry, “in the first place, it will be labeled “Estelan Party Headquarters,” so they’ll want to impress potential members. In the second place, the Klansmen who live nearby will get private Net messages telling them they’re supposed to burn it, saying when. And in the third place, the man who engineered the bounty on me, a guy named Quaid, hates me so much that he’ll lose all sense of caution and be first in line with a torch the minute he sees me.”
“Sees you? You’re not going to be on the premises when they set fire to this place, are you?”
“Not for long. But I have to put in an appearance because that’s how we’ll get an audience—there will be rumors all over the Net that the Captain of Estel will come to his party’s headquarters that night.”
Zach stared at him with admiration. “When you decide to do something, you sure as hell don’t go half way. But how do you know they won’t bomb it instead of just setting it on fire? A lot of people could get hurt that way.”
“That’s why I don’t want a building close to others that might be occupied—though in any case the Klan doesn’t use bombs. If they did, all the Bramfield Clubs would be gone by now, and a lot of major public buildings. That’s not their kind of terrorism; it would get the police, and maybe Fleet, to come after them. They don’t want to stir up public opinion against them when they’re trying to create scapegoats. Besides, they use fire as a symbol, at least the twentieth-century ones did.”
“I’ve wondered about that. What’s with the cross burning? I thought most of them claim to be Christians.”
“The original Klan didn’t look at it as destroying crosses—they were lighting them up, illuminating them. I don’t suppose they know or care what they’re doing now. Quaid, for one, despises all religions and attacks them all equally except when he’s encouraging them to oppose psi.”
“Quaid?” Suddenly recollecting something, Zach said, “I got a message a couple days ago from López about him. Said you’d be interested to know that he’s now top dog in the Klan, their Imperial Wizard, whatever that is.”
“It’s the title used by the head of the historical Ku Klux Klan.” This was good news, Terry thought. If Quaid was the official top leader, the discrediting of the Klan would be all the more complete.
Zach grinned. “The Klan’s Imperial Wizard versus the Captain of Estel—that should make some new history.”
~ 50 ~
They talked until late in the night, and then suddenly Zach said, “If you don’t mind, I think I’ll come along to see the show. I’ve been planning to retire from the forgery business, and this is as good a time as any. I don’t want to push my luck too far; the last agent I had in the box acted like he might be onto something. It stands to reason I can’t fool them forever, and besides, since I got involved in this refugee stuff I’ve kind of lost interest in just outwitting bureaucrats.”
“It would be great to have you with me,” Terry said, “though hopefully there won’t be many more refugees after the Klan loses its power.” Zach had plenty of friends on Earth, he knew, and evidently plenty of money stashed away since he hadn’t balked at buying the building. If he ever ran short, there would be a demand for skilled ID forgers anywhere.
So after a day spent sealing up the famous box and closing the emporium for future sale, Terry and Zach, carrying four duffels of Zach’s gear between them, boarded the shuttle and returned to Bright Hope. Terry warned Zach not to talk about their upcoming enterprise in front of the crew. He knew all three of them would oppose it.
“Will you promise that if I’m arrested you’ll take care of them till they find work?” he asked him. “I’ve been handling all the money but what they may want to spend on Skyros, and if I transfer it to them now they’ll be suspicious.”
“Sure,” said Zach. “You can count on that.”
After a moment’s thought Terry added, “You once asked about the mind training I’ve had. Well, at a Bramfield Club on Earth you can get it. Alison had it at the one on New Afrika and she can recommend you. But don’t ever, under any circumstances, let on that the Captain of Estel knows where it’s offered.”
Terry picked up more refugees and made two trips to Skyros and back while Zach scouted Earth for a suitable building to buy and, with the aid of López and other friends, cleaned up its front. It was in Greater Los Angeles, an ancient, empty big-box stor
e of the cheap sort that should have been torn down but hadn’t been, isolated in the middle of a huge parking lot that served a busy strip mall. Trash and discarded packing materials had been left inside, along with scattered items of unsold merchandise. Zach put up a banner reading “Estelan Party Headquarters, Opening Soon,” but obtained no permits to open; he did not arrange for the utilities to be turned on and thus the sprinkler system would be inoperative.
Then, with the election only a week away, Terry began planting rumors on the Net about the coming appearance of the Captain of Estel. They included the date and time, which would be in the evening, before the strip mall stores closed. And he made sure that they would reach the news media.
The rumors soon went viral. There was no way to keep Bright Hope’s crew from seeing them.
“What does it mean?” Alison asked him. “Who would start such a rumor when you’ve never revealed your identity? People are going to be furious when you don’t show up.”
“I have to show up,” Terry said reluctantly.
“But you can’t. You can’t land on Earth.”
“Just this once, I have to. There won’t be any mentors near there.” Privately he wondered; the mentors had been trying to contact him, and they would see the notices.
“Is there really an Estelan Party, like there was on Ciencia?” Gwen asked.
“Not yet, but there should be. The Estelans on Ciencia won.”
“Even if you could start a party, it wouldn’t help defeat Hiller,” Alison said. “It’s too close to the election. Besides, I thought you aim to influence only colony worlds.”
“Terry, I don’t see how you can go to this meeting,” Jon declared. “The bounty hunters are still looking for you, and they’ll have seen the publicity. It would be better to disappoint your followers than for you to get caught.”
“I don’t have a choice,” Terry said. “Don’t ask me why.”
“Well, I’ll find out when we get there, won’t I?”
“You can’t come with me, Jon. The bounty hunters are still looking for you, too, and there’s no point in our both being at risk. Zach will be there if I need help.” At this, Terry sensed sadness in Jon, and realized that he had hurt him by implying that despite his long loyalty, Zach was being preferred over him. Quickly he said, “Don’t think I wouldn’t rather have you, but I may be there awhile and I don’t like to leave Gwen in charge of the ship in Earth orbit. There’s too much traffic here.”
The ship he might never see again once he left it, Terry thought miserably. What if his crazy scheme didn’t work, and Hiller won anyway?
The next day he spent hacking, sending messages to local Klansmen whose Net addresses he found in a database he had cracked. Purporting to come from Klan headquarters, they said that they were to come robed and masked to the address given at the hour stated and were to bring torches. Believers in Estel, they were told, could not be allowed to form a political party.
Quaid would see some of these messages, of course, and would wonder who had taken the initiative that rightly belonged to him. But he wouldn’t disclaim them. As he would also see rumors that the Captain of Estel was coming, he would certainly show up, as would numerous bounty hunters.
And so, of course, would Fleet. Although normally Fleet had no jurisdiction outside the bounds of the spaceport, recapturing someone who’d escaped from them was an exception. If they could get their hands on him, they would.
That night with Alison was agony. It might be years before he would see her again, and Terry could not suppress that awareness—they were too close telepathically now for her not to guess. Yet he could not speak of it. If he did, neither of them could get through the hours until his departure. He held her close and felt her tears wet against his skin, and he wondered why he had ever taken on a role that demanded giving up the freedom to live like other people. He had thought he was free when he received Estel, but it had bound him just as surely as had his confinement to Ciencia. As its now-legendary Captain, he had obligations that overrode all other choices he might ever make.
“Alison,” he whispered. “We’ve had two good years—a little more than two—and if anything happens to me, they’re what I want you to remember. We knew from the beginning that there might not be many. Don’t grieve for the time we didn’t have, look back on what we did, and be glad that fate allowed us this much.”
In the morning, alone on the bridge, Terry got together the few things he would need on Earth, wondering if he should take a gun from the captain’s locker.
The Klan did not use guns. Guns were illegal and only criminals had them, whereas Klan members were otherwise-respectable citizens in disguise. Their aim was not to slaughter people in a way that might be mistaken for a gang killing, but to terrorize; thus their weapon was fire. They burned crosses, buildings, and occasionally victims they’d captured; they sometimes hanged them; but they would not shoot into a crowd. In his two years of talking to refugees he had never heard of anyone being shot by the Klan. Yet it seemed rash to go unarmed into a riot, and it wasn’t as if he hadn’t been trained to defend himself. He decided to take one.
He avoided saying goodbye to the crew. All that could be said to Alison had been said last night, and Jon would try to talk him out of going alone. So he went to the shuttle bay when the coast was clear, assuming they were in their staterooms.
When he boarded the shuttle Jon was already in the copilot’s seat.
“I don’t know what you’re up to,” Jon said, “but whatever it is, you’re not going without me. Gwen is perfectly capable of maintaining the ship in orbit, and you know it.”
Terry protested, “You can’t do anything to help—your being there wouldn’t make any difference to the outcome. It’s something I have to take on alone.”
“Terry,” said Jon, “the Estelan movement on Ciencia gave me something to believe in, and I want a part in whatever you’re doing to spread it. On top of that, you’ve done more for me than I can ever repay, and if you got into trouble while I wasn’t beside you, I’d never forgive myself. Give me a chance to keep my self-respect.”
Reluctantly, Terry gave in. If by any chance he did escape he would need to make a fast getaway, and Jon might help with that.
They landed at the Los Angeles spaceport after considerable red tape and delay; he hadn’t dealt with so much orbital traffic since his Fleet days. He was tempted to order Jon to remain with the shuttle, which really ought not to be left unguarded, but in the end he decided it would be cruel to deprive him of the chance to see the action, however painful watching the probable arrest turned out to be.
By the time they neared “Estelan Party Headquarters” in a rented groundcar, the streets were already clogged with traffic and local cops were turning cars away from the parking lot. Terry had known he’d attract an audience, but nothing like the mass of people gathered there, filling the aisles, some sitting on the tops of cars. Belatedly it dawned on him that the Klan members would also have to park. Most residents of Los Angeles, however, were well accustomed to gridlock and had sense enough to leave their groundcars at malls up to a mile away. Presumably the Klansmen had arranged for some closer meeting place where they could put on their robes.
Zach was waiting at the building, accompanied by the friends he’d recruited for crowd control, who wore security guard uniforms. Terry took him aside and assured himself that the building had been thoroughly checked and the entrances guarded to make sure that no enthusiasts hoping for a close look at the celebrity got inside. The closest parking spaces had been cordoned off, not only to make room for spectators but to prevent cars from being trapped too near the fire.
“We haven’t got an assembly permit,” Zach said, “but by the time the traffic cops realize that, it will be too late for it to matter. The backup force is too busy with gang shootouts to bother about spontaneous gatherings.”
Terry had not been recognized by anyone in the crowd, of course, and though he could see news crews and sev
eral Fleet officers, they were too far off to compare his face with a picture. Not until he made himself known would he be in danger from them. He didn’t intend to do that until the Klan appeared. The confrontation, if it was to be effective, had to happen fast. He waited on tenterhooks, just inside the building’s entrance. What if they didn’t come?
Then, in a massive wave of white robes and pointed white hats, they did.
“Oh, my God.” Jon looked at Terry, appalled. “You're aware of how much the Klan hates you. How could you not know they’d find out that you’d be here?”
“I did know,” Terry said. “I set it up.”
“But they’ll kill you!”
“No, they won’t.” They might try to toss him into the flames, Terry thought nervously, but they wouldn’t get to him; the security guards were here for his protection. “They won’t kill me,” he repeated. “They’ll burn the building, though. That’s what Zach bought it for.”
The Klansmen advanced. It didn’t matter that the crowd was already filling all the space between parked groundcars; they simply pushed their way through, shoving people aside, and the people shrank back in terror. Many fled the lot entirely, though most didn’t go far enough to avoid watching, with morbid fascination, what was going to happen. Terry could sense the surge of emotion from the crowd and he became aware to his distress that because the onlookers were ardent followers of the Captain of Estel, they believed he had some supernatural power against the Klan. They thought his presence would protect them. And he supposed that in a sense, it would; the Klan’s venom would be focused not on them, but on him.
He threw open the doors and stepped forward and when he spoke, using the wireless mike Zach handed him, the crowd hushed. Tonight above all, he must evoke a mass telepathic response. “I am the Captain of Estel,” he said, “and I have come to say in my own person something so vital that I can no longer afford to hide. In the coming election you must vote against Hiller! Tell your friends and anyone you meet to vote against him! He must not be elected, for he is the enemy of all that I stand for, and he is a friend of the Ku Klux Klan.”
The Rising Flame: Box Set: Defender of the Flame + Herald of the Flame Page 76