by Mark Iles
A PRIDE OF LIONS
Mark Iles
ALL RIGHTS RESERVED
No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, or by any information storage and retrieval system, without permission in writing from the author, except in the case of brief quotations embodied in reviews.
Cover Art:
Select-O-Graphix
Publisher’s Note:
This is a work of fiction. All names, characters, places, and events are the work of the author’s imagination.
Any resemblance to real persons, places, or events is coincidental.
Solstice Publishing - www.solsticepublishing.com
Copyright 2013 Mark Iles
Dedication
This book is dedicated to my children: Sabrina, Robin, Holly and Amy. Also to my sisters Christine and Susan, whose belief and love supported me through very trying times.
Chapter One
It was hot, dark and humid in the sewers. Selena Dillon fidgeted at the bottom of the ladder, impatient to get out and swallowed repeatedly to force back the stench of human refuse. She smothered another retch and blinked at her comrades in the flashlight beams. Sam was atop the ladder, and it was his beer belly that blocked the view as he worked on the alarm system.
“Torches out,” Sam whispered harshly. Glancing down, he raised stiffened fingers to his lips, issuing the order for total silence, watching as they returned the gesture in acknowledgment. Then, with a sudden dull click, the hatch above them opened and he pushed it aside and climbed out.
Selena breathed in the fresh air as, one-by-one, they crept up the ladder and followed him into the exotic gardens of the Royal Palace. They crawled forwards, snaking over the grass until they lay in the mulch under the cover of a large bush; its musky sweet scent laced the air. Sam’s lips moved in mute prayer as he silently replaced the cover before slithering over to join them. A breath of wind ruffled the treetops and bushes, dusting those beneath in pollen and bringing with it strange elusive scents. They lay still, listening. But only the haunting call of birds and animals disturbed the calm.
Dressed in black, from the rubber soled boots to their finely meshed masks, the assassins were five mere shadows in the night.
Sam rose and padded over to the nearest building, the Royal sleeping chambers. After a short pause, the door hissed open and the others got to their feet and hurried after him, their feet whispering through the grass.
Then they were inside and the door hissed closed behind them.
Selena had expected to be discovered by now, but it seemed that the Gods were with them. She unslung her assault rifle in readiness; Sam and the others did the same. Hope that they might actually pull it off grew, and the revenge that she craved for the death of her parents would finally be hers.
Sam led the way down the corridor, his bulk swaying with grim determination.
Fabulous works of art adorned the blue-paint walls, busts and statuettes sat securely behind glass cases or mounted on pedestals. From large multi-coloured pots strange tropical plants rose to head height, the more lethal of them snapping at passing insects.
Their feet sank into the depths of the thick blue carpet, muffling their soft footsteps.
The corridor branched off suddenly to the right, but they stuck firmly to the route ingrained in their minds. Selena’s blue eyes twinkled at the micro-cameras above them, knowing they only showed those monitoring them the false images being fed by their inside man.
Eventually they reached the first door, beyond which they knew lay another short passageway and then finally one last door, this time protected by two guards. Taking a deep breath Selena tapped the combination into the lock and the door quietly opened.
Selena and Sam dived through and, landing on their stomachs, fired their deadly blue beams at the surprised guards. With only the slightest of thuds their smoking bodies hit the carpet and the other assassins rushed over their prone team-mates and down the corridor. Selena and Sam leapt to their feet and followed, their eyes fixed on that final beckoning door. The design was beautiful. Birds of pure gold appeared to flutter over green-leafed bamboo, while carved ivory dragons at the foot of the door glared balefully up at them with deep vermillion eyes and, jaws filled with blood-stained teeth, snarled defiance.
Sam was puffing away behind her when everything began to slow down. Selena faltered, staggered and leant on the wall as giddiness and disorientation swamped her, and she realised with horror just why there had been so few visible obstacles. Perhaps it was a type of nerve gas or chemical agent; maybe a short-term biological weapon, although that seemed unlikely. Whatever it was, it formed the perfect guard against would-be assassins. No one would, could, suspect its existence. The palace guards and staff could easily be immunised without their even knowing about it, which explained why their man on the inside had made no mention of such complications. She doubted he was aware of it.
Muffled sounds came from beyond the door as two of her masked comrades fell with rattling gasps. Sam sank to his knees, crawling on bravely for a moment before finally he too lay still.
“No!” Selena raged, her voice ringing down the corridor. “We came here to kill you, and we will!” She could hear guards running towards them from nearby corridors, voices rising in alarm.
She threw herself at the door, only to bounce off and fall to her knees as she reached it. Her fingernails splintered, she reached up and tore at the door with bare hands, her blood smearing the artwork. Selena felt as if she was underwater, every move became a major effort. In despair she aimed her assault rifle upwards at the lock and pressed the trigger, watching in disbelief as the beam ricocheted from the ebony surface and blasted a nearby statue into dust. Golden tears of laughter ran from the songbirds, marring one of the beautiful dragons, and Selena felt her own tears running down her face.
They’d failed, and the last sound she heard as she passed out was that of mocking feminine laughter.
Chapter Two
The judge pursed his lips with a drawn out sucking sound. The multicoloured jewels in his beard rattled slightly as he looked carefully about the courtroom, tapping his silver-painted fingernails against the wood of his podium. His eyes narrowed, thoughts interrupted, as the defendants were led into the courtroom.
“All rise,” ordered the robot secretary and with a rumble of conversation everyone in the room complied.
The Judge raised a hand to his mouth, coughed and wiped his lips, glancing over at the defendants as he did so.
The six of them were all dressed in the usual vermillion gowns that made them so easily identifiable should any try to escape. Five of the defendants were men, the other a blonde woman. One of the men was an informer, who’d been working for the terrorists from inside the palace itself. Although the assassins hadn’t known much about him, the information they’d supplied had quickly led to his arrest. The judge shuddered at the thought of what techniques the police must have used to get those details.
He tapped his gavel and the humdrum of conversation slowed and then died down.
The robosec paused in its note-taking and looked up, saying in a bored mechanical voice, “Silence, this court is now in session!” It waited until the hush was complete then added loudly, “Bring in the jury.”
The twelve entered, solemn-faced, and sat grimly in their respective places as the prosecution ran rapidly though the sequence of events, taking no longer than twelve minutes. Unusually, there were no barristers to represent the accused.
When the Judge spoke, his voice was a deep solemn rumble. “The accused are charged with the murder of two members of the Royal Guard and the attempted assassination of a member of the Royal Famil
y, namely the Queen. To even attempt such an act of treason is bad enough but to take the lives of two innocent men, who were just doing their jobs, is despicable; an act that defies reason. Tell me, how do you plead?”
Selena and her comrades answered as one: “Guilty.”
“Well,” the Judge retorted, leaning back in his chair, fingers tapping away, “I must say I find it rather strange that you’re not offering a defence. I’d like to give you another chance to think about that, before we make our decision.”
As the judge raised his gavel, one of the defendants, a bearded fat man, stood and held up his hand, interrupting the Judge’s flow. The console in front of the Judge lit up, proclaiming in brilliant red letters on a black background: “Turner, Sam.”
“Excuse me, your honour,” Sam Turner said in a deep but mellow voice, his many chins wobbling. “We don’t need any more time. We know what we tried to do and we aren’t denying it. In fact we’re damn proud of ourselves for trying to kill that monster. What we are ashamed of, though, is failing, as it means our people will continue to suffer. We will accept any justice that’s meted out by our people.”
The Judge glanced at his console and then shrugged. “Mr Turner, if that’s what you want, then so be it. Have any of the other defendants anything to say?” He paused for several moments, his eyes playing on each of them in turn. The girl gazed straight back at him, her brilliant blue eyes nailing him to his chair like twin lasers. Her generous chest would draw most men’s attention but his was held firmly by those bright undaunted eyes; it was as if she was totally unafraid of what might happen next.
He turned away and frowned again. “No? Then you don’t leave me any choice, do you?” He faced the jury, and said, “You’ve heard the case and must now make your own individual decisions on the fate of these young people. I remind you that you are not here to look at any issues of provocation, or moral reasoning. Nor to decide whether you think they acted rightly or wrongly. You’re simply here to decide whether they are guilty of the crimes they’ve been charged with.
“If they broke the law then they must pay for their crimes, irrespective of all else. The reason for my presence here, as I’m sure you’re aware, is in accordance with Federation Directives—which state that trials for crimes of such magnitude must be conducted by a senior off-world judge, so that they can be seen to be dealt with in a fair and unbiased manner. The jury, however, must be drawn from the populace – hence your presence here today.”
An opaque dome fell around the jury, hiding them from view. The judge rose to his feet, beard rattling softly, and left the courtroom to relax in his chambers, until he received notice they’d reached a verdict. When an orderly finally came and summoned him, he returned to his seat, sat down heavily and pressed a button that cleared the jury’s screening.
“Have you come to a decision?” he asked loudly.
“We have,” their spokesman replied.
“Then show your verdict.” As he nodded for them to carry on, they all reached forward and pressed the relative buttons in front of them.
The judge looked at the results on his console, and hid an inward sigh.
Their spokesman glanced at the results and swallowed, adding, “We find all of the accused guilty of the crimes stated.”
When the man sat back down again the judge addressed the prisoners. “You’ve been tried by Federation Law, and have even confessed to the sickening crime of attempted murder, of Royalty nonetheless, and also of murder itself. You’ve also been found guilty of the heinous crime of terrorism, and I’m sure that you all know full well that each of these crimes carries the sentence of death.”
There were angry growls from the crowd and the robosec bellowed, “Silence in court!”
A slim dark-haired woman stood up and banged her fist loudly on the wooden barrier in front of her, her face working in fury as she shouted, “This is a farce. If they’d succeeded you’d be giving them medals now, instead of punishing them. This sucks! Everyone here knows that those who should be on trial are the Queen and the Royal Family. They’ve murdered thousands of people, and these guys only tried to rid our planet of that tyrant. They’re heroes, not criminals!”
Selena looked over and grinned broadly, as she recognised her old school chum Linda McKenzie. Catching her eye, Linda added, “Tell them to shove it up their arse, Selena. You guys did the right thing, and we’re all damn proud of you. Others will try the same thing, you’ll see, and sooner or later someone will succeed and we’ll finally be rid of those murderers.”
“Get that woman out of my court!” the judge roared, watching angrily as guards dragged Linda away, although the audience continued to protest. “The next person who makes any noise will be dragged outside and whipped on the spot!” he bellowed, eyes widening as he glared at them. Gradually silence fell once more.
“However,” continued the judge more collectedly, turning back to the accused and ignoring the rumpus, “it’s in my power to offer you an alternative. We’re currently upgrading the military, as we do from time to time. This allows me to offer you the option of serving in the Penal Regiments, until you either die in their ranks or are discharged after twenty-five years’ service under their terms of contract. You each have three minutes to decide.”
Selena was stunned. None of them had expected this, and in the shocked silence of the courtroom she began to think furiously.
The Penal Regiments! They were the most feared and respected military force in all of humanity. Only the insane or desperate would even contemplate joining their ranks, and those who simply had no other choice. Those who joined had the details of their previous lives completely erased; it was as if they ceased to exist. They lost their past, family and sometimes even their personalities. If anyone actually survived the duration of their contracts they could have their faces and bodies surgically altered at the cost of the Federation, so that prior enemies and friends wouldn’t recognise them and they could live out their retirement in peace. But that was if they survived that long and very few ever did. However, Selena mused, there were those survivors. Hope glimmered for the first time since the raid.
Suddenly she heard a voice calling for her attention.
“Selena Dillon, your choice?”
The time had gone and the question seemed to come from nowhere, but Selena knew that she had no option. “I choose the Penal Regiments.”
The others of her team turned to stare at her with blank expressions, but she could hear their breath catching in disbelief.
One by one, the others chose martyrdom.
As they were marched off, Sam turned to stare at her in disgust. She would never forget the look on his face.
Poor Sam, she thought. You just don’t understand, do you? One day, when you’re long gone and nothing remains of you but dust blowing on the wind, our crimes will have been forgotten and I’ll be able to come back. Can’t you see that?
As for me, old friend, I’m already a survivor.
Chapter Three
Selena was held in police custody for two days, until the judge’s ship was finally ready to leave orbit. She spent her time gazing out through the bars on her single open window at the pastel-coloured buildings and the multitude of people walking past far below, ignorant of her stares.
The small amount of food occasionally shoved through the metal flap in her door was tasteless but the only break to the monotony. She wasn’t even allowed out to the toilet, having to use instead the stinking and degrading hole in the floor next to the washbasin. She washed in the icy running water, the only comfort she was allowed. There was no towel or blanket and the nights were long, cold and damp. Several days later, she was handcuffed and led out of her cell under heavily-armed guard and then taken out to a shuttle that waited patiently to take her up to the ship in high orbit. She fully expected to be “shot while attempting to escape” but nothing untoward happened. Selena raised an eyebrow and smirked; perhaps there actually was something that even the Great Qu
een of Capulet was wary of after all, Federal Justice.
The shuttle trip up to the prison ship only took an hour or so. Once on board, Selena was marched through numerous narrow passageways and finally shown into a room filled with long rows of sleep chambers, most of which were already occupied. Puzzled, she turned to one of the armed guards. “Surely not all of these are going to the Penal Camps?”
The bearded tall policeman grinned at her. “You’ll be surprised at how many people do go there these days…” He left the sentence hanging, his lop-sided grin doubtless designed to make her nervous. Selena tried not to think too much about her fate as she was directed to her chamber, in preparation for the forthcoming voyage.
There was nothing much to note about the white, sterile plastic-looking sleep chambers when she got there; one simply stripped completely and climbed in under the guard’s watchful eyes. He saw through her nervousness and, to her surprise, showed a hint of compassion. “Don’t worry. You’ll sleep long and sound, with no dreams at all. You’ll simply wake when you get there and find the voyage is over. It will only seem like a few hours have passed since you climbed in, but in reality it will have been far longer.”
Selena felt a sense of relief wash over her at the policeman’s kind words and gentle smile. The transparent hood lowered itself over her nakedness and she let out a long deep sigh and fell instantly asleep.
He’d lied.
* * * *
Today was a public holiday and, despite the early hour and the sun just rising over the horizon, the streets were already flooded with chattering people. Selena knew this city was the only one on all of Capulet, and that it was set in a ring of metal that was charged with enough power at night to kill the many predators that had once roamed this land, the legends of which still gave the bravest of them nightmares.