Fracture (The Chronicles Of Discord Book 1)

by D. D. Chant

“He hit his head,” returned Penn.

  He opened his mouth to say more but froze.

  “The Drone’s coming back!”

  Ceadron placed a hand on his brother’s shoulder.

  “It’s okay, Penn, Balak is calling the empty Drone back. He thinks he’ll be able to fly it.”

  Penn relaxed a little.

  “The Drone?”

  Ceadron nodded.

  “The truck’s too slow. Balak should be able to bypass its security system, and the computer, and fly it manually. We should be in Una territory by morning.”

  “But Tula technology doesn’t work in Una territory.”

  “Then I guess we’re in for a bumpy landing.” Shrugged Balak, as he joinned them. The Drone hovered above them for a few moments before landing and shutting down.

  The underside opened, and a ladder descended. Balak was climbing up it before it touched the ground, Ceadron close behind him. The inside of the Drone was sparse. Five chairs lined each side of the hull, facing inward with a metal grated floor between. Steps led up to a small hatch, and it was through the little opening that Balak eased himself. In the enclosed space beyond he had just enough room to sit cross-legged.

  In reality it was a maintenance hatch, only used to service the Drone’s computer, update software, and remove damaged circuitry. Balak had trained in computer engineering, and knew that it was possible to control the Drone manually with the emergency controls.

  However, there were several overrides that he had to perform first. He pressed the red button on the centre console, and waited as a touch screen computer unfolded.

  “How long is this going to take?” asked Ceadron, sticking his head through the hatch.

  “I don’t know, I’ve never done it before,” returned Balak absently. “Disable the tracking beacon would you? It’s on the wall, just above your head.”

  Ceadron looked doubtfully at the complicated mass of wires encased in clear plastic.

  “How?”

  Without turning, Balak reached for the gun he had leant against the wall and passed it to his brother.

  “Hit it. Really hard.”

  Ceadron grinned, and knocked the device clean off the wall. An alarm sounded shrilly, and then died as Balak shut it off.

  “There aren’t any windows!” exclaimed Penn, sticking his head through the hatch next to Ceadron’s. “Balak, how are you going to fly it if you can’t see where you’re going? Are you going to blow a hole through the front?”

  “I don’t need to,” answered Balak absently.

  “Do you need some help? I got top marks in my last test; Scholar Blain said…”

  Ceadron pulled his youngest brother from inside the hatch, and pushed him toward the chairs.

  “Balak is not going to blow a hole through the front of the Drone, he doesn’t need anything from us other than to leave him in peace, so leave him alone and don't distract him.”

  “What is he going to do then?”

  “Just go and sit down!” Ceadron exclaimed, exasperated.

  “I guess you don’t know either...”

  Ceadron cuffed him and gave him a push toward one of the chairs before bending, and looking through the hatch again.

  “Do you need anything, Balak?”

  “A securitor helmet.”

  Ceadron turned, and called down to Astra where she stood on the ground beneath the open belly of the Drone.

  “A helmet, Astra.”

  Astra nodded, and disappeared for a moment. A moment later she returned with the requested article, which she tossed up to Ceadron who passed it on to Balak. Balak pulled out his knife and unpicked the stitching that held the lining in place. Reaching into the hole he had made, he pulled out three clear plastic casings with glowing wires within. Separating the wires he selected one, and cut it carefully.

  “Here, Cead, hold this.”

  Balak passed him the helmet, and the wire that he’d just sliced in two, holding both ends upright.

  “Inside the casing is a gel protecting the wire. Don’t get it on your hands, and don’t squeeze the casing.”

  Balak wiped away the perspiration collecting on his brow as Ceadron nodded, and turned back to the centre console. Inserting the blade of his knife beneath the plastic cover, he pulled, wrenching it free.

  Beneath the cover was a tangle of glowing wires, and Balak reached inside pulling a bundle free.

  Carefully he traced each wire back to its source before slicing one in half and holding both ends in one hand.

  “Give me the other wires, Cead.”

  Silently Ceadron handed them over, and watched in fascination as Balak placed two ends together. The light in the wires fluctuated and then stabilised, and he repeated the process with the two remaining wires.

  “Done!”

  Balak held the joins up for Ceadron to see. The only evidence that they had once been separate wires was a slightly raised bump in the clear surface.

  “We’re ready to go, get everyone inside.”

  Ceadron looked to where his father, Leda, Penn, Petta, Ben, and Astra were safely strapped into their seats.

  “Ready, Balak.”

  Balak touched the computer screen, and powered up the engines.

  “I’ve connected the Drone cameras to the computer display in the helmet, so seeing won’t be a problem. All the same you’d better strap yourself in too, Cead.” Balak grinned apologetically. “I’ve never flown a Drone before; this is bound to be a little bumpy until I get the hang of it.”

  Ceadron nodded, and moved away from the hatch taking a seat next to Leda.

  Back in the small control room of the Drone Balak took a deep breath and pulled the helmet on. The visor slid down, and the computer screen flickered on.

  He could see.

  He turned his head experimentally one way and then the other. The camera mounted on the nose of the Drone followed his movements seamlessly. Balak took a deep breath, and turned the engines on, his fingers grasping the controls.

  The plane began to lift. It swerved slightly one way and then levelled off. Uri Va Dic Toban reached out a large hand and covered Leda's where they rested in her lap, her fingers were icy.

  “Are you alright?”

  She nodded.

  “Balak knows what he’s doing,” she responded abruptly.

  “That wasn’t what I meant.”

  Leda shifted in her seat, looking away.

  “I'm fine; I’ve trained all my life in case something like this happened.”

  “Shooting a target is different from shooting a person,” returned Uri. “It’s okay to be upset.”

  Leda was silent, staring down at her hands.

  “I didn’t enjoy it,” she answered softly. “But I’m not sorry. He would have killed Astra if I hadn’t shot him first. I'd do it again.”

  She shivered and looked up.

  “I just... I feel so cold somehow.”

  Chapter Thirteen

  The Tula

  Senator Burton looked at his unexpected guest in surprise. Today he was scheduled to tour the factories under Councillor Sendel’s control, but it seemed that these activities had been cancelled. Councillor Ladron sat across from him a faint frown touching his brow.

  Corbani Va Dic Ladron had decided that it would not be wise, under the circumstances, to allow Councillor Sendel anywhere near the Senator. If he thought it would help him, Sendel was bold enough to tell Senator Burton what had happened to his son.

  Corbani sighed, Sendel was becoming harder to control. He had always been too cunning by half, and ruthless along with it. As ruthless as he was himself, thought Corbani.

  For many years they had worked well together. Sendel had thirsted for power, and Corbani had been in a position to grant him that power. Sendel had been very useful; he had efficiently removed the previous Councillor of Industry when the man had opposed Corbani. Councillor Ladron had rewarded him by nominating him to take over the position on the Council.

  However
, since peace talks had resumed between the Free Nation and the Tula High Council, Sendel had become bolder. Corbani knew what was in his head; his ambitious mind had seen a way to snatch leadership for himself. Yes, Sendel would have to be removed, but not yet. He could afford no suspicion at this time. He would have to wait until the diplomatic envoy had left.

  “I’m sorry to hear that Councillor Sendel is unwell, I hope it isn’t serious?”

  Corbani was pulled from his reverie by Senator Burton’s words.

  “No, just a re-occurrence of a stomach malady he suffers from.”

  “How unfortunate.”

  Something in Senator Burton’s tone gave Councillor Ladron the vague idea that he was aware that he was being lied to, just as he was aware that the Councillors did not hold equal power. Senator Burton was no fool. It was the only reason why Councillor Sendel was still alive.

  “If you still wish to tour the factories I will be happy to accompany you.” Corbani raised his eyebrows.

  “Or perhaps you would enjoy a day of rest?”

  Senator Burton shook his head.

  “Ben is visiting Astra’s house today.” He leant forward, placing his empty cup on the table between them. “It might be nice to join him.”

  Councillor Ladron froze, his cup halfway to his lips.

  “An excellent plan, you have seen very little of the day to day lives of the Tula people.” Councillor Ladron smiled. “I will arrange for your transportation, but first it would be an honour if you would lunch privately with me in my Council chambers.”

  Senator Burton inclined his head.

  “It would be my pleasure Councillor,” he accepted.

  “Excellent, if you follow me everything has been prepared.” Councillor Ladron stood. “It will be much easier for us to talk in a private place.”

  “Certainly it makes it easier to say what you really mean,” observed Senator Burton dryly.

  Councillor Ladron stiffened. The barely concealed meaning of Senator Burton’s words not lost on him.

  Senator Burton was not going to ruin his plans, he would not allow it.

  As they passed through the waiting area in front of Councillor Ladron’s office, he paused for a moment to speak with his subsidiary. The girl was very young, and had a frightened look about her, she cringed when

  Corbani stopped before her, and Senator Burton watched as she gripped the sides of the seat she was sitting on until her knuckles turned white.

  Corbani ordered her to have the kitchens send up lunch with a blithe disregard for the fact that all of this was supposed to have been prepared already.

  “And coffee while we wait, Deb, an Arabica I think,” he instructed calmly.

  Senator Burton had not thought it possible for the girl to turn any whiter, but at this point she blanched until her blusher stood out harshly pink against her white cheeks.

  “A-Arabica, sir?” she stammered breathlessly.

  Corbani's lips thinned at her question and Senator Burton saw the girl quail before his anger.

  “I... yes, Reverend Councillor.”

  Councillor Ladron motioned Senator Burton into his office with a smile.

  “Please forgive her, she substitutes for Astra but she is still in training.”

  They entered Councillor Ladron’s spacious and well lit office. At the far end of the room, two large dormer windows allowed sunlight to fill the room. It fell on the black stone walls, making them glitter.

  Everything else in the room was white. Two overstuffed suede sofas faced each other over an opaque glass coffee table. A large white-blue orb cast light from where it hung in the centre of the room. Set into a recess in the wall was a large glowing globe that gave off enough heat to make the room pleasantly warm.

  At the very end of the office was Councillor Ladron’s desk, glowing softly with the many wires embedded into its surface.

  “My computer is connected to all the Council networks,” explained Corbani, seeing the direction of Senator Burton's gaze. “Every mainframe in the Tula Strongholds can be accessed from that computer.”

  Senator Burton suppressed a shudder. Corbani Va Dic Ladron was a man with too much power.

  “There is little that escapes your notice then?”

  Councillor Ladron smiled thinly.

  “I like to be aware of any problems that arise.”

  “Forearmed is forewarned,” murmured Senator Burton sarcastically.

  Councillor Ladron looked blank.

  “I'm sorry?”

  Senator Burton shook his head.

  “Nothing, it’s just an old saying,” he returned, settling himself across from Corbani on one of the sofa’s.

  Councillor Ladron watched him with an irritable twist to his features. He disliked these ‘old sayings’ of the Free Nation; he mistrusted anything he didn’t understand.

  A light rap on the door heralded the subsidiary’s arrival with Coffee. She entered the room nervously, her movements clumsy. As she placed the cups before each of the men she jarred them, spilling some of their contents into the saucers. She hesitated and looked up at Councillor Ladron in horror.

  Senator Burton felt sorry for the poor girl, but he saw a curious expression of satisfaction on Corbani’s face. His hand clenched involuntarily; Corbani was enjoying her fear, feeding on it like some twisted parasite. When she had finished she stood clutching the tray in her hands. Senator Burton thanked her, and raised the cup to his lips. The bitterness of coffee mixed with the sweetness of milk slipped smoothly over his pallet.

  “You — you did say Arabica didn’t you, Reverend Councillor?” gasped Deb nervously.

  Councillor Ladron sent her a look that could have frozen boiling water instantly.

  “Leave us, Deb.”

  The girl made a brief Tula salute before beating a graceless exit. Senator Burton watched the door close behind her, and took another sip of coffee.

  “I’ve never understood what people mean when they specify Arabica coffee,” he remarked at length.

  Councillor Ladron watched him closely before taking a meditate sip of his own drink, rolling the liquid around his mouth appreciatively.

  “There are several species in the coffee genus,” he responded, contemplating Senator Burton through half closed lids. “The two most popular are Arabica and Canephora. Canephora Robusta is bitter and less flavoursome, but it has a better body than Arabica. It is also resistant to coffee leaf rust, and can be cultivated at lower altitudes and in warmer climates. Yet for taste, nothing can beat Arabica.”

  “I see you are an expert on the subject, Councillor,” observed Senator Burton.

  “I am a firm believer in knowing ones own weaknesses thoroughly.”

  “Very wise.”

  Senator Burton moved his tongue against the roof of his mouth. It felt strange; thick and unwieldy. The coffee cup in his hand was growing heavier as though the gravity in the room was steadily increasing. He moved to set it down on the coffee table in front of him, but his actions were slow, blurring together strangely.

  “Are you alright, Senator Burton?”

  Councillor Ladron’s voice’s sounded hollow, deep, and echoing, coming from somewhere far away.

  Senator Burton tried to talk but no words would come. Slowly he felt himself slump sideways, and was caught with surprising gentleness by Councillor Ladron. He tried to struggle, but his body was heavy and would not respond. Franticly he attempted to fight the urge to close his eyes, but the task was impossible.

  His last thought was for Ben, and what Councillor Ladron would do to his son.

  Chapter Fourteen

  “Brace!”

  Balak’s voice echoed through the Drone. Even as he spoke, Astra could hear the sound of the engines beginning to slow as the aircraft tilted downward, crashing through foliage. The plane swerved sideways and began to spin. It hit the ground with a jolt, once, twice, and a third time. Then, as the grinding of stressed metal filled the air, it came to a halt.

  Al
l was quiet and Astra opened her eyes, prying her fingers from the belts on her seat. The Drone had landed on its side, and she was now dangling, the restraints the only thing keeping her in her seat. She wondered vaguely how she would get down without hurting herself. Across from her, Leda, whose seat was now angled so that she was lying down, slipped out of the straps holding her in place. Leaning over Ben, she attempted to ascertain if he had suffered any damage.

  “Is everyone okay?” asked Uri looking around.

  Penn nodded, he had jumped down from his seat to help Petta from her chair, and he was holding her tightly as she cried.

  Ceadron slid out of his chair, and helped Astra down.

  “Balak are you okay?”

  Silence greeted his question.

  “Balak? Balak!” Ceadron's voice became more panicked, and he climbed over to the hatch. Looking inside he swore roughly, and a moment later he was pulling Balak’s limp body through the hatch. Balak groaned reaching up to hold his head. He was still wearing the helmet, and Ceadron unclasped it quickly before throwing it aside.

  “We have to get out of here,” gasped Balak.

  “He’s right,” agreed Astra looking first to her father and then to Ceadron. “The Una forces patrolling the border will not have missed our arrival; it won’t take them long to find us.”

  “Then we’d better get going.”

  Uri bent over, helping Ben get to his feet. Holding the dazed man upright, he negotiated his way out of the Drone. Because of the angle it was necessary to climb upwards to exit the plane. Penn heaved himself up into a position where he could help Petta over the side, and then ease her down to the ground. Ben was manhandled over the edge. Penn grunted as he took his weight and almost lost his balance, then a second later there was a thud as Ben hit the floor on the other side. Astra and Leda went next, followed by a barely conscious Balak, and lastly Uri and Ceadron.

  Leda looked up as they dropped to the floor.

  “Ben’s out cold but Balak is still conscious.”

  Ceadron leaned down and passed an arm around Balak’s waist, hauling him upright.

  “We need to move.”

  He set off with an unsteady gait. Uri and Penn dragged Ben between them, and followed him. The girls trailled after them. Astra wrapped her arm around Petta’s trembling form, and addressed Leda over their younger sister’s head.