Thus Falls the Shadow

by Martin Swinford

  “Finally,” Bex muttered.

  Petrus jumped lightly onto the mosaic floor, sword extended in his right hand, his left on his hip.

  “Defend yourself mercenary,” he spat. Rilk said nothing, just stood there with his arms by his sides. Bex, suddenly realising she was too close to the action, scuttled behind a pillar.

  “Rilk?” The concern showed in my voice.

  “I've got this,” he reassured me. “Just keep out of the way.” I nodded and backed off, keeping my gaze fixed on the scene playing out before me. Petrus started to move forward and Rilk backed away, circling to his right.

  “What's the matter mercenary? Are you afraid?” Despite the brave words it was clear that Petrus was talking for his own benefit. Again Rilk said nothing, but kept moving, staying just out of range.

  “Hah!” With a cry Petrus leaned in and jabbed, but his strike met only with thin air as Rilk twisted away. Again he stabbed and again Rilk dodged. Petrus was getting more confident now, moving quicker in his pursuit.

  “Can't run forever, you mercenary scum!” Petrus shouted and suddenly leapt forward, swinging his sword high in the air before bringing it whistling down. It was a mighty blow, but Rilk was too quick. Stepping in under the blade he took Petrus by the arm and collar and rolled, throwing the young man to the floor. Petrus screamed as the sword slipped from his hand to crash to the tiles. Even as he reached desperately for his weapon Rilk slammed a powerful blow into the young man's back, leaving him arched in pain. Rilk punched again and this time we could all hear a crack, quickly drowned by a disappointed cry. Rilk rolled to his feet and dragged Petrus to his knees, and then stood, one burly arm around the boy’s neck, and looked at Luca.

  “Well?” he asked.

  A reptilian grin crept over Luca's face. His tongue slipped out of his mouth to wet his dry lips.

  “Kill him,” he said.

  “No!” Jocasta screamed as she ran forward, tears starting from her eyes. She leapt from the dais in a desperate attempt to intervene and skidded to a stop in front of Rilk.

  “Please don’t hurt him!” She dropped to her knees.

  “Get back!” Luca stood and then padded towards them, stepping lightly down from the dais.

  “Why so distressed my love?” Luca spoke with soft menace. “After all, he's not your son.”

  Petrus, still held firm in Rilk's grasp, reached a hand towards Jocasta. “Say nothing,” he said.

  The woman reached out in return. “I can't lose you!” she said, “and I don't care who knows it.”

  Petrus looked into her eyes for a long moment and then hung his head.

  “Did you think you'd fooled me?” Luca's voice dripped with contempt. “Did you think I wouldn't find out?” He nodded at Rilk. “Kill him now.”

  “Father, I am your son!”

  “I have other sons!” Luca bent and picked up the sword. “Do it now!” he ordered.

  I looked at Rilk but he didn't meet my eye, just stared into the distance as with a quick twist of his shoulders he snapped the boy's neck.

  Jocasta's scream was an outpouring of total loss, suddenly cut short by the hiss of the blade. The crack as her head bounced on the tiles was followed moments later by the thump of her body. Luca looked at the bloody sword in his hand.

  “Such a pretentious weapon,” he said quietly.

  Fifteen

  THE BODIES HAD BEEN removed by a couple of guards, and then the blood cleaned up by an old Kwa-nrt, her fur almost completely turned to silver.

  “She was my nurse when I was a little boy,” Luca remarked after she had left. I wanted to ask why he had not acknowledged her presence while she was in the room.

  Luca stepped back up to his throne, sat down and then carefully wiped his hand on his tunic to remove a spot of blood.

  “Why don't you introduce your friends?” he asked.

  Rilk smiled. “This is my companion Will, owner of our ship and currently taking a break from running fishing trips.”

  Luca regally inclined his head in my direction.

  “And this is Bex,” continued Rilk.

  “Nice to meet you, young lady.” Luca smiled. “You're a very pretty girl, in fact you remind me of my first wife!”

  Bex stared at him like he'd offered to dip her in ice cream. “Are you fucking joking?” she asked.

  “That's torn it,” Rilk muttered.

  For a second Luca stared right back at Bex before suddenly bursting out in a great guffaw of laughter.

  “My dear,” he chortled. “You even sound like her!” He wiped his eyes and sighed deeply, then looked back at Rilk. All traces of the laughter had gone.

  “Well?” he asked.

  Rilk's plan was simple but daring, or as I thought it, suicidally risky. Instead of moving against the perimeter defences, Luca would commit his entire force to a sudden attack on Sardiss, Simbardo's capital on Regius 5. The attack would consist of three parts. The first wave would head straight for Sardiss and in Rilk's words, “Bomb and blast the shit out of anything that moves.” Meanwhile the second wave would land a small assault squad on the surface far enough away from Sardiss to be undetected and then go on to strafe the capital with the first wave. The assault squad would attack by land, fight their way into the palace and kill Simbardo, and with the leader dead, resistance would soon melt away. As Rilk put it, “When you've seen the guy who's paying you get blasted to pieces, you kind of lose your motivation.”

  Luca paced up and down the hall. “How can we take them by surprise?” he asked.

  “Remember that city out on the fourth moon of Kwa 3 that got pulverised by a meteor strike.”

  “Of course.”

  “Why didn't they see it coming?”

  “Well it was heading directly for them, almost impossible to pick up until it's too late.”

  “Exactly.” Rilk had replied. “We'll do the same. Line the fleet up well out of the system. Accelerate to top speed before we get anywhere near. By the time they pick us up it will be too late to stop us.”

  “That means pulling out of top speed right on top of the planet. There'll be no room for mistakes.”

  “I've done it before,” Rilk said. “You got good pilots?”

  “The best!” Luca replied.

  “Shouldn't be a problem then.”

  “What about the ground assault?” Luca asked. “How do you know it'll work.”

  “Two reasons,” Rilk replied. “For a start, all the defences on Sardiss are designed to protect the city against an attack from space so we should have a free run at them.”

  “And the second reason?”

  “I'll lead the attack myself.”

  WE KICKED OUR HEELS in the hall while Luca went off to consult with his advisors.

  “In other words, he's having a think about it,” said Rilk.

  I sat on the edge of the dais and watched Rilk pace up and down. Bex wandered along the wall, staring at the frescos.

  “I like these,” she said. “Fuck knows what they're about, but I like them.” She stopped and poked at one of the figures. “Hey, I think this bit's loose!”

  “Leave it alone.” I watched Rilk take another turn up and down and then asked. “Do you trust him?”

  “What do you mean?” Rilk rubbed his index finger up the side of nose and then over the stubble of his upper lip. It was a gesture I knew well.

  “The way he killed them,” I explained. “His son and his wife, like it was nothing. It was chilling!”

  “He's a psychopath.” Rilk shrugged. “You've come across them before.”

  “Yeah, but usually at a safe distance.” I looked Rilk in the eye. “We need this guy, so I ask you again. Do you trust him?” Rilk stopped his pacing.

  “Not exactly,” he replied slowly. “He hates Simbardo's guts, and would dearly love to bring him down.” He thought for a moment. “So, do I trust Luca? No, I don't. Do I trust him to act out of hatred and greed? Absolutely.”

  “I suppose that will have
to do.” I nodded slowly. “Do you think he'll go for it?”

  Rilk stopped and sat down next to me.

  “I think so.”

  “Why?”

  “Well, Luca and Simbardo have been fighting an interplanetary war for over a decade and all that time they've both been using the same tactics. Basically, they try to chip away at each other's empire, one base at a time.”

  “So?”

  “So it doesn't work. They use fighter bombers to soften up the enemy's defences before attempting to land heavily armoured ground troops. These then have to fight their way into the base, take control and then prepare to defend themselves against the inevitable counterattack.”

  “So one of them takes control, then the other tries to take it back.”

  “Exactly, and it just goes on and on.”

  “So it's stalemate.” I said.

  “Not quite,” Rilk explained. “It's a war of attrition, which Luca is slowly losing. In the time they've been fighting, Simbardo's empire has grown, while Luca's has shrunk. Not by much but enough to tip the balance.”

  “So Luca can't win?” I asked.

  “Not if he keeps using the same tactics. He won't admit it but he knows.”

  “Why doesn't he just nuke 'em?” Bex interrupted.

  “Because that would destroy the thing that Luca wants most,” Rilk explained.

  “I thought he wanted Simbardo's head on a fucking plate.”

  “That's what he says, “ Rilk replied, “but what he really wants is Simbardo's trading empire, and all the important stuff is there on Regius 5. Names, bank account details, contacts, debts, information. Add up all those and it equals money, and that's what this is all about.”

  “Basically, it's like a hostile takeover.” I said.

  “Extremely hostile!” said Rilk with a grin.

  Sixteen

  “YOU COULD PARK THE ship on that upper lip,” Rilk commented.

  Bex stood and stared upwards, arms folded, hip jutting. Casting a baleful look in Rilk's direction, her lips twitched for a self-conscious moment until she decided to ignore him and resumed her vigil.

  “Doesn't look too fucking impressive!” she eventually pronounced.

  “It doesn't have to,” replied Rilk. “It's what's inside that counts.”

  “Yeah? And what the fuck's that?”

  “My old crew.” Rilk smiled. “The best damn fighters in the system.”

  We were standing at the landing ground watching the ship descend though the clouds. As Bex had said, it didn't look like much. Just a dull grey, snub nosed, elongated box of a ship with stubby fins at the tail. At about twice the size of The Fading Sun, it could easily have been mistaken for a small freighter or a subsystem transport plane. Maybe that was the intention.

  “How many people do you have?” I asked.

  “Well, there's a crew of twenty-six.” Rilk replied. “But that includes the pilot and the co-pilot. They're not usually part of an attack force.”

  “Is that going to be enough?” I asked.

  “Oh yes,” said Rilk. “Should be plenty.”

  I could feel my face growing cold with water condensed from the steam of the ship’s exhausts. The same steam that mingled with the resident mist to form an almost impenetrable cloud so that I heard rather than saw the ship’s hatch open. The sound was followed by others: the crunch of boots on the dirt, the sharp click as something metallic caught the edge of the hatch, and a stifled curse. Low voices conversed briefly before footsteps approached. A figure loomed out of the eddying cloud.

  “Rilk?” The man had a look of contained power. That combined with the stark white hair and the empty socket instead of his left eye gave him a fearsome appearance.

  “Hans?” Rilk strode forward and clasped the man's hand. “It's good to see you old friend.”

  “You too,” Hans replied before half turning and looking back. “Guy's here somewhere.”

  Another figure appeared out of the fog, and if the first was fearsome this one was terrifying. For a start he was huge, standing a head taller than even Rilk and powerfully built with it, but more striking was the wreckage of his once handsome face. The left side right side of his face was perfect, in contrast with the right which was hideously burnt.

  “Guy!” Rilk stepped forward, hand outstretched, only to be enfolded in an embrace that lifted him off his feet.

  “Rilk,” the voice rumbled. “Missed you!”

  “Ah, put him down yer big lunk!” The next figure to emerge from the mist was half the size of the previous one. He moved quickly with a curious waddle, accounted for by the carbon steel strut where his right foot should have been.

  “Ain't none of you freaks got all your fucking body parts?” Bex asked.

  “Don't worry chicky, we all still got the part that you need! Know what I'm sayin?” The little man leered horribly at Bex before looking round for support. He didn't get it.

  “Ow!” His head jerked forward as the figure that emerged from the mist slapped him hard on the back of the neck.

  “Waldo! What have I told you?”

  “No dissin' the babes. Ow!” The second slap was louder than the first.

  “I mean, no disrespecting the ladies. Sorry Martha.”

  “It's not me you should say sorry to,” she replied and turning to Bex continued. “Sorry about Waldo honey. I swear sometimes I don't know why I keep him around.”

  “Maybe because I do all the dirty jobs that no one else'll do,” Waldo pointed out.

  “Maybe so,” Martha replied, “but you gotta remember your manners, right?”

  “Right Martha,” the little man replied.

  All this time Bex had said nothing, just stood and stared like she'd never seen a woman before, but then she'd probably never seen one like Martha. With her burnished copper skin, emerald eyes and intricately shaved hair she was certainly a striking figure. Even in combat fatigues she looked elegant but it was a lethal beauty she had, that and a sense of savage grace.

  “You ok honey?” Martha asked.

  “Er, yes, thanks.” Bex smiled. Rilk raised an eyebrow.

  “Hello Martha,” he said. I could tell he was attempting to play it cool but Martha was having none of it. She simply slipped her hand round the back of his neck, pulled his head down and kissed him full on the lips.

  “Rilk honey,” she purred. “You are a sight for sore eyes!”

  She glanced in my direction and her mouth made an o.

  “And you must be Will,” she said, stepping towards me. “The man who stole Rilk away from me.” To my surprise she wrapped her arms round me and gave me a warm hug. “Don't worry honey,” she whispered in my ear, “I was only ever keeping him warm for you.”

  She stepped back and looked at each of us in turn. “Well then,” she said with a smile, “let's get you on board and kitted up.”

  “SHE'S NOT HAVING A gun!”

  We were just about ready to go. The combat fatigues felt strange enough, but the body armour was tight across my chest and I didn't like the feeling. In my left hand I held my helmet by the strap, my right gripped the rubber stock of the semi-automatic rifle that rested, muzzle down, on the floor.

  Why can't she have a gun?”

  “Well, because...”

  “Because she's a girl?” Martha's voice carried a hint of menace.

  “No!” Rilk looked decidedly uncomfortable. “She's not trained.”

  “Neither is Will.”

  “That's different...”

  “Because he's a man?”

  “No it's just...” Rilk spluttered to a halt.

  “It's very simple,” Martha pointed her forefinger directly in Rilk's face. “You assume that 'cos she's a girl then you're responsible for her, just 'cos you’re a man. Well it ain't so. You don't own her, you don't have to protect her, you don't get to tell her what to do. So if she wants to come, she comes and if she wants to be armed, she gets a gun. Got it?”

  “Alright!” Rilk matched the
pointing finger with one of his own. “Just keep her away from me!”

  “Honey, in a fight everyone stays away from you. You're just too damn dangerous.” Martha turned to Bex. “So sweetie, you want a gun?”

  “Fuck yeah!” Bex pumped her fist in victory.

  The ship was functional but comfy enough. I was sitting on a padded bench in the crew lounge checking my gun. To be honest I'd have been much happier with my shotgun but Rilk pointed out that in that case I'd have to lead the attack, as no one but a suicidal idiot would stand anywhere in front of me. That and the fact that my shotgun was on The Fading Sun, following some distance behind us, convinced me.

  I ejected the clip and thumbed the shells out into my left hand, counting them as I did. The shiny cylinders weighed heavy in my palm. I put them carefully on the seat beside me, transferred the empty clip to my left hand and then reloaded it, pushing each shell gently against the spring until it clicked into place. Then I picked up the rifle, checked the safety was on and pushed the clip firmly home. I had another two clips in my right thigh pocket, and a box of shells in my left. I hoped like hell I wasn't going to need them.

  “You look like you know what you're doing.” Rilk sat down on the bench opposite.

  “You had to stand guard duty on the freighters,” I replied.

  “And you've been in a few fights, I'm guessing?”

  “That came later, when I was an independent trader.”

  “Independent trader!” Rilk snorted. “Smuggler more like.”

  I nodded in agreement and then, resting the gun against the seat, I leaned forward.

  “Is this going somewhere?” I asked.

  “Just that we've both got our pasts.” Rilk was trying to look innocent. It didn't suit him.

  “You should have told me,” I said.

  “Like I said, we've all got our pasts.”

  “You should have told me!” I repeated.

  “Like you've told me all your old lays?”

  “One,” I said, holding up a finger, “she seems a bit more than 'an old lay'.”

  Rilk shrugged.

  “And two,” I continued, “I would tell you about an ex if we were likely to meet up with them.”