Iástron

by James C. Dunn

  ‘The General left the Cities on board the Quasar this afternoon,’ the closest soldier said.

  ‘Yes . . . well . . . word has been received from his vessel. The old woman is to be taken for further tests.’

  The two soldiers looked to each other. ‘Right now?’

  ‘Yes, right away . . . sir.’

  The closest frowned and glared at Noah, who nodded in concurrence. ‘What tests are those then, Doctor . . . Gigia?’

  Now she’s done it, he thought, adjusting his stolen name badge. What do I say?

  Fortunately Dimal concealed his hesitation for him. ‘More of the usual,’ she said, breaking the almost dangerous silence. ‘You know how it is with these old . . . chicatas!’ She grimaced at her own tease.

  The guards laughed. Dimal assumed an obviously-forced cackle. She had quite clearly done this before. Noah attempted to laugh but found that, coupled with his almost noticeable quivering, all that came out was air. Dimal widened her eyes and nodded, and the duplicitous Doctor Gigia moved for the door.

  ‘He’ll be in and out as quick as antimatt,’ she said cheerily, taking a step herself. Noah knew something was wrong, however, when both guards placed their hands on the hilts of their electric weapons.

  ‘The only problem is,’ grunted one, ‘the old woman was moved two hours ago.’

  ‘Oh, furka!’

  The guards tried for their weapons, but Adra Dimal already had hers in her grip. She snapped her arm up and, crashing the back of her blaster into the closest guard’s chin, sent a bolt of blue light at the armed hand of the other. The limb was taken clean off.

  Noah yelped and stuck out his foot. The first soldier backed over it and tumbled backward into the wall. Grinning proudly at the part he’d played in the scuffle, he watched his captain take hold of the barely-conscious one-armed man and hold her weapon to his cranium.

  ‘You say she’s been moved?’ Dimal shouted. ‘Where to?’

  He struggled, but she held firm—fire in her eyes. ‘Where to?!’

  ‘You won’t do it!’ he cried.

  ‘Trust me,’ Noah warned him, ‘she will.’

  ‘Where to?’ She prodded him with the blaster.

  ‘Okay, okay!’ he said. ‘Two floors up. Thirty-second floor. But you won’t get far—they already know you’re here!’

  She slammed the weapon into his skull and sent him out cold. ‘Come on!’ she cried, and they took off running.

  CHAPTER FIFTY-FOUR

  ALEKSEY VASILY WAITED for his signal. The viewing station of the Quasar emptied. A mistake could not be afforded, he reminded himself; the slightest error would make it all come crashing down. The Córonat’s orders were too important. So many lives were at stake. The last crewmember stepped out of the room, leaving Captain Mendoza, a solid, sturdy-looking woman, to dead-bolt the access gate. She stepped into position beside Vasily, out of sight, leaving only one stood at the main deck, alone and leaning with both hands on the engraved metal railing.

  Vasily took a deep breath, releasing it slowly.

  General Berenguer took his hands from the rail and placed them behind his back, closing his eyes as the lights dimmed. In the place where space was visible in all its grace suddenly appeared several screens; upon each was the image of a man or woman: representatives of the great worlds and leaders of the Systemal Alignment. Vasily had done his research; he recognised each of their glowering scowls, all of which were aimed identically towards the general before them.

  Ruben went to open his mouth, but was cut off.

  ‘Who do you think you are threatening, you fool?’ cried one man.

  ‘I agree!’ uttered a second, and then a third.

  ‘What gives you the right to coerce us into cooperation?’

  ‘With blackmail of all ploys!’

  ‘Enough of your warmongering!’

  ‘Hear hear!’

  ‘Dog!’

  The rabble took some minutes to die down. It was only then that Ruben spoke, calmly and decidedly unflustered. ‘I take it you each received your summons?’

  ‘If by summons you mean the message threatening to release confidential Alignment documents, then yes, I did,’ answered a skinny, middle-aged man. Vasily recognised the beard-infested man as Representative Lord Di-sak of Bravoral—capital world of the Third System, Accentauria.

  ‘I regret that it had to come to that, my lord,’ Ruben said.

  ‘I’ll make sure you do regret it,’ Di-sak grunted in return. ‘The High Court beckons, General!’

  ‘I for one think it was despicably cunning,’ said another man, ‘but nonetheless a genius, and without doubt necessary, move.’

  ‘Thank you, Von Viticus,’ the General said.

  Vasily surveyed the elderly gentleman, whose spectacles hung from the end of his generously-proportioned nose. The Von, leaders of the many provinces of Earth, he recalled, had always been friendly to Titan.

  ‘Well you would think that,’ Di-sak addressed Von Viticus. ‘You’re not in the Alignment!’

  ‘True, true. But the affiliation protects the interests of Earth as much as Bravoral or Mar-Andra. Why else, in your all-consuming wisdom, do you imagine I am here?’

  Lord Di-sak grunted.

  In all the meetings of the Baren Igoth—of which there had been few—not a single one had been gathered like theirs. The meeting had traditionally been held upon a host world and all representatives would attend in person. But now they were onboard the Quasar, transmitting on vulnerable and easily-exposed wavelengths. He recalled an old aphorism: all desperate times demand dangerous deeds.

  The General began by introducing the members of the Baren Igoth to Chief Vasily, who stepped forward and spoke of his ordeal and struggle with the armies of the Dishan upon Rotavar. He performed his part well enough; they were impressed by his courage but it seemed they still wavered at the thought of uniting against Crilshar.

  Lord Di-sak continued to dispute any and all arguments Ruben put forth. ‘The hopelessly out dated vision of a Humanity united has long since passed,’ he told the other members, whilst keeping his eyes fixed on the General. ‘The Human Race has split through the core. He who stretches out his arms, desperately grasping for the others, will find too late he has no arms left with which to break his own fall.’

  Ruben sighed. ‘You believe we do not need each other?’

  ‘I did not say that. You may require assistance, but the moons of Bravoral are strong on their own.’

  ‘As is the Samosian Queendom,’ said Kind-Lady Musarat, representative of the Queen of Samos.

  ‘My mistake,’ Ruben said. ‘I hadn’t realised the days when the strong helped the weak were over. I was not aware I would be meeting with egocentric invertebrate.’

  Another bout of jeers and catcalls broke out.

  ‘Empires and superpowers emerge, shrivel, and supersede each other in the annals of history,’ Di-sak said. ‘The Systemal Alignment is over. Crilshar is now no more a threat than any other world, including yours. Bravoral and its moons have remained untouched. Are you suggesting I make war on a world which has done nothing to injure mine?’

  ‘Nothing yet,’ said Vasily.

  ‘What was that?’

  ‘You heard the first time, my lord,’ Ruben answered. ‘To make war on one of us it to make war on all.’

  ‘I disagree,’ said Musarat.

  ‘It would appear to me,’ Di-sak said, ‘strong as my discernment is, that your goals are driven by your need for revenge.’

  ‘What are you saying?’

  ‘Your family was present upon Aurora, was it not?’

  ‘Yes, but that—’

  ‘Then you admit yourself that you are tainted with hatred for Crilshar at their loss? If indeed Crilshar is responsible.’

  ‘No, I—’

  ‘Who would not want retribution in your place?’

  Vasily watched Ruben’s hand tighten into a fist behind his back.

  ‘Are you even certain,’ asked
Kind-Lady Musarat, ‘that the Dishan are responsible for the attack on Aurora?’

  ‘Who else would attempt such a horror?’

  ‘Exercise caution in your judgement, General,’ spoke Von Viticus. ‘Yes, it is entirely likely the New Dishan Alliance is behind the attack, but what evidence do we have that this is true?’

  ‘None.’ Di-sak laughed. ‘Absolutely none at all!’

  ‘That is not true,’ Ruben said. ‘Loss of communication with Outpost Aurora was noticed first by the moons of Ammisaduqa, which sent a retrieval vessel, but found no survivors. Upon discovering portions of a fragmented Titanese vessel they immediately sent me their reports. In short, the recovery team from Aurora found very few artefacts which can be used as evidence. But they have confirmed that the explosives used to destroy the outpost were of those developed and used by a faction within the New Dishan Alliance. Pavar XD-10s to be exact.’

  Vasily watched the General step down to the middle of the viewing centre and take a small disk from his pocket, placing it onto the control panel and projecting an account detailing the attack on Aurora to each member of the Baren Igoth.

  Von Viticus frowned and sat back into his chair. ‘Interesting,’ he said. ‘But not condemning.’

  Musarat agreed. ‘The Pavars developed the technology,’ she accepted, ‘and our intelligence would suggest many dealings with Crilshar, but the explosives in question have been sold in black markets for some years, have they not?’

  ‘This isn’t evidence,’ Di-sak grunted. ‘You disappoint me, General.’

  Vasily eyed Di-sak warily. The Lord placed red-shaded glasses on his thin, pompous nose, before peering upon Ruben with remarkable disdain. The Chief found something in his approach very familiar. What it was, he couldn’t quite grasp.

  Ruben took a deep breath. ‘We are not dealing with a substandard collection of underworld criminals here. This is the Dishan Alliance we’re talking about. A shortfall of evidence is an obstacle we will have to overcome. But to do that each and every one of us has to accept that Crilshar is a threat, whose aim is total control of the Alignment.’

  ‘What must we assume?’ Viticus asked.

  ‘That the Dishan have a strategy,’ he said. ‘And that that strategy involves something we have all heard of.’

  ‘What?’ said Di-sak.

  Ruben placed both hands onto the balustrade, and lifted his head so that all of the gathering could see his face. ‘Erebus,’ he said. ‘The Weapon to Destroy Worlds.’

  CHAPTER FIFTY-FIVE

  DIMAL’S UNCONTROLLABLE BLONDE curls bounced and lashed at Noah’s face as he raced behind her up the stairs to the thirty-second floor of the infirmary.

  ‘You’re sure this is what the crazy old man on Mars told you to do?’ he asked. ‘Find an old woman, who, in all probability, will be just as crazy as him?!’

  ‘First off, the old man wasn’t crazy,’ she said, leaping three steps in one. ‘And what makes you think she’ll be?’

  ‘Ahem, it’s us!’

  ‘He said she can help find Justus. If there’s even a chance that’s true, I’m taking it!’

  ‘How can she help?’

  ‘That . . . he didn’t say.’

  ‘This is a terrible idea, Adra, and you know it is.’

  She reached for her comm and raised it to her jaw line. ‘Raj, you there?’

  Seconds passed, then:

  —Yup, I’m here, Cap’n!

  ‘Please tell me Aíron Veryan’s safely in Titanese custody.’

  —That’s a yup, Cap’n!

  ‘For sure? We can leave knowing she’s safe?’

  If it hadn’t been for Aíron Veryan the Flux wouldn’t have even made it within Titan’s domes. Any official of the Titanese Guard, Noah knew, would be disinclined to refuse asylum to royalty and their escort. Thank heavens for Aíron Veryan of Manera.

  —Without a doubt, Raj replied. She’s gone. Not our problem anymore.

  ‘Good, ‘cos we’re moving to plan B. As in be ready!’

  —Right-o. Good luck!

  She turned the link off and shot Noah a look he knew all too well. It was the same look Justus gave when things were falling apart around them; when he was inventing it all as he went along; a look somewhere between anxiety and excitement; a look he gave just before something bad happened.

  ‘Here,’ Dimal said, tossing him the electric weapon she’d stolen from wherever she’d managed to acquire her uniform.

  ‘What? I . . . I don’t know how to use this!’

  ‘Well now’s the time to learn!’

  They reached the thirty-second floor, turned the corner, and, sure enough, found themselves faced with not two, but six coil-bearing guards.

  ‘A terrible idea!’ he shrieked.

  ‘Shut up!’ She pulled him back round the corner.

  ‘Hey, who’s there?’ they heard.

  ‘Ready?’ she said.

  ‘No.’

  She bowed round and fired wildly. The subsequent yelps told him that they now faced at least one guard less. Noah played with the coiled weapon’s controls as Dimal sent blast after blast, the wall nearby burning black with persistent replies. The deafening boom and crack of their weapons impaired his ability to hear Dimal’s screeched orders.

  ‘Well this is good,’ Dimal said, dropping her weapon and breathing hair from in front of her face. ‘My blaster’s overheated. This can’t get any worse.’

  ‘Got it!’ Noah said, pushing down the silver key of the coil—

  A shooting pain surged the length of his arm. He bit his tongue in shock, slamming his head against the wall.

  ‘NOAH!’

  He shook his spinning head, knocked for six.

  ‘Noah, you ass! You’ve stunned yourself!’

  ‘I—what?’

  ‘You’ve shocked your own arm!’

  ‘I told you! Terrible idea!’

  Dimal took the coil from him and leaned around the corner. ‘Don’t come any closer!’ she told the guards.

  ‘I can’t feel my arm,’ he said in a panic, attempting to move the ten-tonne limb and failing miserably.

  ‘No surprise,’ she said. ‘And now the coil won’t work for me. It’s assigned itself to your hand signature!’

  ‘Well I can’t work it!’

  ‘Tough. You’re gonna’ have to!’ She took hold of his one good arm, placed the coil into his palm. The coil crackled into ignition and she pushed him around the corner. ‘Shoot!’

  He closed his eyes, and pressed the button.

  BAROOM!

  Dimal dragged him back as the corridor filled with smoke, joined by bits of rubble and the flailing arm of one of the guards.

  ‘Oh, no,’ he said. ‘I didn’t mean to kill anyone!’

  ‘I know you didn’t,’ Dimal said softly, snatching his face and kissing him on the forehead.

  ‘Geroff!’

  She grinned. ‘Come on.’

  Through the smoke and into the frenzied ward he found that his shot had missed the guards completely, instead striking the oxygen pipe leading into the ward and taking out the entire entrance to the unit, along with the rest of the soldiers. More would no doubt be coming. They rushed in and discovered the old woman lay unconscious in the middle of the row of beds. His ears were ringing from the explosion, but Noah could still make out the screaming from the other beds nearby. One elderly woman jumped up, screamed ‘Intruder!’ and slapped him across the face.

  ‘Ouch!’ He pulled the dividing screen across, muffling her squeals.

  ‘Stop fooling about and come help me!’ Dimal was trying to wake one of them.

  Noah fumbled about with the old woman’s chart, resting the board on the edge of the bed, and using his only working arm to examine it. ‘It says here that she woke up this evening for the first time in days,’ he said. ‘That’s when they moved her.’

  ‘Anything interesting in there?’ she asked, untying the monitoring machinery.

  He flicked the page whilst
checking his own arm, which still hung lifeless by his side. ‘It also says she’s allergic to . . . err . . . tómates.’

  ‘What’re those?’

  ‘Dunno. Tomatoes, I guess.’

  ‘Really?’

  ‘Yes.’

  Dimal seized a nearby lamp in frustration and launched it at him. ‘Anything interesting and useful?’

  ‘Ouch!’ Noah massaged his shoulder; the very same shoulder from which he’d removed a bullet not two days ago. He flicked the page again. ‘It says here she survived an injection of Sizrthene. Wow, that’s fatal in the smallest measures.’

  ‘Maybe the old man was right,’ she said. ‘Maybe she is a Iástron. Quick, help me wake her.’

  ‘She’s been sedated,’ he said.

  ‘So she can’t walk?’

  Noah leant back with a hand on his hip. ‘Not unless she sleepwalks!’ He looked about. A number of the women had risen from their beds and disappeared out through the smoking hallway. This was never part of the plan. ‘How do we get her out then?’

  ‘Quick, grab that!’ she said, pointing to a wheelchair by the next bed. ‘We’ll wheel her out!’

  ‘This gets better and better!’ Noah raced to the next bed, smiling awkwardly at the old woman who sat petrified beneath her sheets as he stole her chair. They unclipped Callista Berenguer from the remaining monitors and lifted her into it, before rushing back out.

  Raj’s voice came through the loud-speaker of Dimal’s comm as they ran:

  —They’re all headed for you now. There’s no way you’re getting outta’ that building, Cap’n.

  ‘How else?’ Noah cried.

  —Head up to the roof! Raj said. There’s no other way out for you. I’ll force my way through and get you myself.

  ‘No, don’t!’

  —Oops, he said. Too late. I’m on my way. They’re right behind!

  ‘Oh, great! You’d better have a plan once you’re here then. Hurry!’

  Dimal took off toward the lifts; there was no way they could get up the stairs wheeling the old woman. Noah ran behind pushing the chair with one hand, panting and calling for her to slow down. They made it into the lifts and, expecting to find it full of enraged guards, were able to go straight up unhindered. The abductors, however, were to suddenly find themselves faced with three problems simultaneously.

  —They’re storming the infirmary, guys, came Raj’s voice through the link. I’m almost there!

  Great, Noah thought, hearing those words and at that very moment realising the haggard old dear in front of him was beginning to stir. She raised her hand, clawing at his lab coat.