tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-57878690997825096902024-03-21T11:59:34.022-07:00Floyd Looney's Sci-FiScience Fiction short stories and chapters by author Floyd Looney.GeronLhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13145189615256636055noreply@blogger.comBlogger302125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5787869099782509690.post-79869497621735431552018-02-10T10:28:00.001-08:002018-02-10T10:28:26.722-08:00<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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<br />GeronLhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13145189615256636055noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5787869099782509690.post-47767687507076192412017-02-23T23:15:00.001-08:002017-02-23T23:15:30.771-08:00Finally<br />
<br />
With work and everything getting in the way, I am finally writing the final battle of <i>Second Front</i> (Book One). Okay, whether or not a book two is ever written is up in the air, but I really want to write it too.GeronLhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13145189615256636055noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5787869099782509690.post-31732048197474599292017-02-18T22:53:00.002-08:002017-02-18T22:53:14.364-08:00House of Halik - parts four and five<br />
<br />
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<br />
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
IV</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
Young Master Avnar and other male
members of House Avnar with powers gathered around the old table that
had been used to plan things for generations.</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
“Why are we still here<span style="font-family: Liberation Serif, serif;">?</span>”
One of the men asked. Burk Avnar was a barbarian of a man and looked
the part with his wild beard and large frame. “The action is on
Brevick and we're here in neutral territory where nothing is being
done!”</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
Master Avnar sighed. “I would give
anything to be able to knock down a couple of houses near here and
get it all over with. But we know doing such a thing would be the end
of the great houses and the whole system that's been built up since
the colonies landed.”</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
A dapper, slim figure wearing all black
leaned forward and said “The patriarch of the family must stay
here, by the law, but the rest of us can be sent to Brevick or any
other colony. We have many properties and business dealings on
Brevick that need to be protected.”</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
“We were told that Marlton and the
others were invincible, that the other houses had no powerful enough
members to stop them.” said one chubby man in a suit, Gan. “We
even breathed easier when we learned that the only two Halik
loyalists with power were killed. How have we lost Brevick<span style="font-family: Liberation Serif, serif;">?”</span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-family: Liberation Serif, serif;">Others
assented to the question.</span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
“<span style="font-family: Liberation Serif, serif;">We
haven't lost Brevick, yet. Marlton is still alive and the other
houses have not been strong enough to consolidate their base of
power. The situation is still in flux.” Young master Terk Avnar
told the others, and then he smiled. “As a matter of fact, Gannie,
I'm thinking of going myself.”</span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
“<span style="font-family: Liberation Serif, serif;">But
that's not possible. When you accepted the mantle and title of your
father you became anchored to this world and even this wretched
little village.” The man in the suit responded, still chewing on
the food he had eaten.</span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
“<span style="font-family: Liberation Serif, serif;">That
is why I am going to temporarily surrender the title to you.”</span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-family: Liberation Serif, serif;">There
was shock in the room. Every one of the others were surprised.
Everyone tried to shout over everyone else.</span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
“<span style="font-family: Liberation Serif, serif;">The
rest of us will go and restore order on Brevick.” Terk Avnar said,
“We will leave in two days time, everyone be prepared.”</span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-family: Liberation Serif, serif;">After
they left the conference room Dostin had some questions.</span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
“<span style="font-family: Liberation Serif, serif;">Do
you really trust your uncle Gan that much?” Dostin asked.</span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
“<span style="font-family: Liberation Serif, serif;">Gan
has never been anything but scrupulous when it came to the finances
of House Avnar, I think I can trust him long enough to put Brevick to
rights.” Terk Avnar told his bodyguard. “Besides the others will
be with me, Gan will be nothing again once we return.”</span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
V.</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
Jon Halik lay on his bed with his back
to the door, reading from a book when Seri knocked and pushed the
door open.</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
“Father?”</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
He responded with a hrmph sound, which
sounded like permission to enter to the girl. She approached the bed
and addressed her fathers back.</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
“There is something I need to tell
you, father.” She began and then searched for the words,
“Grandfather says it would cheer you up to know, but, I don't
know.”</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
The book closed and her father turned
to face her.</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
“My dear Seri, what are you trying to
say?” he asked, seeming amused.</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
“I have a power, father. I apologize
for not telling you sooner.” She told him and watched the changes
in his face, the surprise, the embarrassment, the pride, the worry
all making appearances. Finally, he looked at her again and nodded,
“I see. Thank you for telling me, Seri.”</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
It seemed that he thought this talk was
over.</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
“Aren't you curious as to what kind
of power?” She asked, “Or why I've decided to tell you now?”</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
He sighed, “I'm not someone who
thinks so slowly. I can guess that you've inherited one of your
grandparents powers and that you think you can do something on
Brevick. Which is impossible.”</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
“Grandfather says he doesn't
recollect anyone in the family having the power to freeze.” Seri
told him, causing him to rub his chin. “Also, I do think I should
go to Brevick.”</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
“Out of the question, Seri. You are
not to even think about trying to get involve in the fighting, you
are too young and untrained.” her father said, although she would
have bet that being trained would have made no difference in his
attitude.</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
“Good night, father.” She said as
she left. Seri had already decided that she would find a way to reach
Brevick before she reached her own chamber. The question was how to
do that without being caught. Each of the great houses had ships
docked at High Port, but there was no Halik working on the orbital
station at present.</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
There was a Benjamin Croce and they
were allies, presently. Seri would have to bring a Croce into her
trust and persuade them to give her clearance and transport to the
High Port without alerting her father or grandfather.
</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
Early the next morning Seri was out and
about the township and wasn't surprised to find Mars Croce loading a
wagon at the Croce warehouse. She nodded to herself and walked right
up to the large young man.</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
“Hello Mars, it's been a while since
we've spoken,” Seri said in as friendly a voice she could muster in
the cold.</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
The young man looked surprised to be
addressed. “Oh, hello there Seri Halik, why are you here?”</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
She smiled, “I have a business
proposal for your father, Nehemiah Croce. I need to speak with him
about an urgent matter.”</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
The large man scratched his head and
looked around, “My father doesn't really want visitors, Seri, he
rarely ever leaves the house without bodyguards these days. What with
the troubles on some of the other worlds.”</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
“I'm sure you know all about that,
Mars. You are much more intelligent than your father gives you credit
for.” Seri told him, he was starting to blush a bit, “By the way,
where are these crates and barrels going?”</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
“Oh, these are going to High Port and
from there to Brevick.”</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
Not doing a good job of containing
herself she burst out, “That's perfect. Mars, maybe you can help me
instead of your father.”</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
He seemed confused, “Me? How could I
help you? With what?”</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
“I'll accompany you to the loading
port and I'll tell you my idea on the way.” She said taking a hold
of one of his thick arms.</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
…</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
“Go to Brevick?” Mars asked, “Are
you insane? This is just cargo, you can't sneak into the cargo hold
and survive the trip. The hold is filled with argon for the passage
through trans space.”</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
She hadn't known that.</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
“Your family owns the lift ship,
yes?” She asked, he nodded. “Your family also owns the transport
that will go to Brevick, right?”</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
He wiped his face, “Seri, are you
trying to get us both arrested or killed?”</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
“You are a Croce, those crewmen work
for you. You are their master.” She explained, “Certainly they
will follow your orders if you tell them to give me passage.”</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
He closed his eyes, “Then what? You
will have no documents on High Point, you won't be welcome there.”</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
“Your uncle Benjamin works on the
station, I'm sure he can figure out something. After all, our
families are allies are we not? Our families are taking back Brevick
together, correct?” Seri told him, she could tell he was falling
for her manipulations, “Who knows, maybe our fathers will decide to
arrange a marriage...”</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
The wallmen at the gate to the liftport
paid no attention to Seri, despite it being rare to see anyone
traveling with Mars Croce before.</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
“I expected some questions,” she
admitted.</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
“They are very loyal, my family
controls the liftport.” He told her, with a wink, “It drives the
House Avnar batty though.”</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
Her first sight of the liftship came as
the wagon turned the corner. It wasn't as large as she had expected,
there was no way anyone could stowaway on the thing without being
noticed. It looked like a big round snail's shell, but painted white
with a hatch and small windows at the front. A hatch opened on the
side and robotic arms lifted the crates and barrels to pack inside
the hold.</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
“It's not as I expected, Mars. Don't
you think you could figure a way to get me on that transport to
Brevick?” She asked, squeezing his arm and laying her head on his
broad shoulder.</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
“I'll be in so much trouble if I do,
I'd have to go with you.” Mars told her.</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
Seri was confused for a moment before
her expression brightened, “Does that mean you can do it? Will I
have time to get my things?”</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
He sighed, “You really mean this?
There's no time to get things, it's leaving very soon.”</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
She sighed and nodded, “Then let's
go. We will keep Brevick free!”</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
He shook his head, “I just want to
keep my hide intact.”</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
GeronLhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13145189615256636055noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5787869099782509690.post-8226714004724540202017-02-13T14:10:00.000-08:002017-02-13T14:10:05.459-08:00House of Halik - part two and three<br />
<h2 style="text-align: center;">
<br /></h2>
<h2 style="text-align: center;">
House of Halik</h2>
<h3 style="text-align: center;">
part 2 and 3</h3>
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<br />
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<br />
</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-family: Liberation Serif, serif;">II</span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-family: Liberation Serif, serif;">The
consensus among the workers of High Port was that this small and beat
up ship could never have made the journey from Brevick, that this
would be some kind of miracle. Two space suited figures were sent out
to retrieve the ship as it drifted by the station. They carried two
small devices that would let the station's traffic controller move
the ship.</span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
“<span style="font-family: Liberation Serif, serif;">There
is nothing sold at the chandlery that would make this wreck
space-worthy.” A dock hand named Smyth said to his teammate
Douglas. The ship wasn't much larger than a shuttle but was clearly
not built to land on a planet.</span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
“<span style="font-family: Liberation Serif, serif;">You
know, I reckon this thing here was used as a tender, to ferry people
from ship to ship or from a ship to a station.” Douglas said as he
finally got his hands on the banged up outer hull. If he was right,
then that truly made its presence here a mystery.</span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-family: Liberation Serif, serif;">Smyth
had found a porthole and was using the lights on his helmet to try
and look inside. “Looks a right mess, I say.”</span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
“<span style="font-family: Liberation Serif, serif;">Just
attach the tuggers.” Douglas told him.</span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-family: Liberation Serif, serif;">The
station had received one short message from the craft and nothing
more. As if the pilot had reached his destination and then fell
unconscious. Once the tuggers were attached the two space suited
figures looked into the cockpit to see a man strapped into the pilots
seat.</span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
“<span style="font-family: Liberation Serif, serif;">It's
all yours traffic control, you might want to alert the medical team.”
Douglas reported in.</span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-family: Liberation Serif, serif;">A
female voice returned to their ears, “Already done that, I'm taking
control of the ship, get clear guys.”</span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
“<span style="font-family: Liberation Serif, serif;">Okay,
Belina. We're clear.” Douglas told her.</span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-family: Liberation Serif, serif;">Belina
was the Acting Harbor Master. This would have been a great
achievement at her age had she not been assigned to the duty because
she belonged to the House of Avnar. The House boasted many members in
powerful positions as well as prestigious ones. The Harbor Master of
High Port was just a very useful one.</span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-family: Liberation Serif, serif;">When
the small ragged ship was docked and boarded the Medical Team found
that the pilot was still alive but wounded. The damage on the ship,
besides the wear and tear of age, looked like it had been hit with
energy weapons at long distance. It was a miracle the thing managed
to limp into trans-space at all, which it was clearly not built to
do.</span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
“<span style="font-family: Liberation Serif, serif;">It
is registered to the Orbital Port of Brevick, as one of their harbor
tenders.” Their resident researcher said after examining the plaque
in the cockpit wall. “I have no idea why anyone would try and get
this thing into trans space.”</span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
“<span style="font-family: Liberation Serif, serif;">Desperate
to escape, I suppose.” said the guard posted at the dock. “We all
know there has been a power struggle on Brevick recently. Perhaps it
has finally come to violence. Although, you would think we might have
heard of something like that.”</span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
After her shift was over Belina found
the man in charge of the investigation, Benjamin Croce and invited
him to her quarters for a drink. When he arrived she answered the
door wearing a thin slip that showed her figure almost as if it were
entirely transparent. It was close.</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
“Hello Benjamin.” She said in a
soft voice.</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
The investigator was a bit thrown off.
He had known her for months and this was out of character enough that
he wanted to laugh. She was not exactly the type. Then again, there
weren't that many women on board the station and one did not
jeopardize their chances.</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
“Hello Belina. You look nice.” He
told her. For a short and stout maiden. The way she walked when she
fetched him a glass of wine was more buffalo than graceful swan.
Obviously, she was not accustomed to trying to sweet talk someone
like this.</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
He sat on the couch, he was surprised
when she say next to him and leaned against him. “I've been here
for months, Benjamin. Everyone seems to want me, but I've been
waiting for you.”</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
He was thinking of just asking “What
do you want<span style="font-family: Liberation Serif, serif;">?”. Then again,
maybe she really did want him in her bed. You roll the dice and take
your chances in life.</span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
“<span style="font-family: Liberation Serif, serif;">Benjamin,
have you identified the pilot yet?” she asked as she snuggled close
and forced his free arm to wrap around her shoulders. “This is
nice.”</span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-family: Liberation Serif, serif;">Benjamin
Croce cleared his throat. “His name is Rodgers Blake. I believe he
was acting as a courier for someone. We found nothing on the ship,
not even a spare shirt. No doubt he has a message in his head to
deliver. He'll recover from his wounds I think.”</span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-family: Liberation Serif, serif;">He
felt her hands snaking past the small of his back and his lap.
“Rodgers Blake, if he stole that ship just to deliver a message,
he's brave or insane.” She said in a voice that was barely audible.
She also thought “That message must be very important too.”</span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-family: Liberation Serif, serif;">Benjamin
Croce was suddenly feeling a bit leery of the woman. His suspicions
finally outweighed his hormones and he was looking for a reason to
get away. Unfortunately she had gotten her arms around him and had
pushed him onto his side, with her on top and giggling. Benjamin
couldn't push her off, there must have been something in that wine.</span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-family: Liberation Serif, serif;">Croce
remembered that he had been standoffish with this woman since she
arrived because she was with the House of Avnar. The House had used
its influence to get her appointed as Acting Harbor Master despite
her lack of experience. Now he lay there paralyzed while the giggling
witch undressed him.</span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-family: Liberation Serif, serif;">III</span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-family: Liberation Serif, serif;">Master
Avnar and Dostin waited in the field for their contact. This was
supposed to be a secret meeting but Dostin was sure they'd be better
off meeting in a crowded public house. Men meeting in a field were
bound to be seen as much more suspicious than men having ale
together.</span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-family: Liberation Serif, serif;">There
was a pile of leaves in the corner near the treeline. The bored young
Avnar shot a fireball at it from his hands. Dostin frowned.
Pointlessly showing off that you had such a power was rude. Suddenly
the flames turned blue and froze.</span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
“<span style="font-family: Liberation Serif, serif;">He's
here!” Young Master Avnar said loudly. Dostin looked toward the
path to make sure no traveller had heard that.</span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-family: Liberation Serif, serif;">From
out of the woods walked a cloaked figure, a sword at their side. </span>
</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
“<span style="font-family: Liberation Serif, serif;">Finally,
do you know how long I waited?” The young man asked. Dostin shook
his head, they had been there less than five minutes.</span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-family: Liberation Serif, serif;">The
figure reached up and pushed the cloak back. It was a girl. A rather
young girl. Seri Halik.</span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
“<span style="font-family: Liberation Serif, serif;">Of
course I know exactly how long you have been here.” she answered.
“Don't bother pretending to have waited all day.”</span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-family: Liberation Serif, serif;">That
would be exactly like young Master Avnar, too. His reputation for
being a rude and arrogant man was getting out.</span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
“<span style="font-family: Liberation Serif, serif;">You
have asked me here because of what is happening on Brevick. Your
house is close to losing its power base there.” The girl said, “My
house would benefit, why should I help you?”</span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-family: Liberation Serif, serif;">Dostin
smiled, she really got to the bottom of things quickly.</span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
“<span style="font-family: Liberation Serif, serif;">That
is very straightforward. Right, then I'll tell you why.” Master
Avnar said, “Because your house will soon die out and you can marry
into a powerful house.”</span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-family: Liberation Serif, serif;">Seri
smirked, “You are asking me to betray my father and grandfather and
marry you?”</span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-family: Liberation Serif, serif;">Dostin
knew that a child produced between them would likely inherit the
power of one of the parents, possibly but rarely both. Such a child
could grow up powerful indeed.</span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
“<span style="font-family: Liberation Serif, serif;">I
guess you could marry Dostin, then.” The young man shrugged.</span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-family: Liberation Serif, serif;">The
girl smiled. “If that is supposed to be an insult you should
apologize to your man Dostin.”</span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-family: Liberation Serif, serif;">The
young master smirked. “I guess that wasn't an insult then.” </span>
</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
“<span style="font-family: Liberation Serif, serif;">Besides,
my grandfather says things are about to change. You know his power.
He's always been correct.” Seri told them, she smiled and started
to turn, “I'm going to have to say no to marrying you, Terk, it
seems I'll be too busy real soon.”</span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-family: Liberation Serif, serif;">She
walked into the woods and was gone. The frozen blue fire had melted
away, leaving the pile of leaves intact but wet.</span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
“<span style="font-family: Liberation Serif, serif;">That
girl used my first name, you heard that, right?” Master Avnar
asked, getting angry. “She was rude to someone older than she is.
Has she no manners? Next time I find her father passed out on the
road, I'm taking a dump. Let's get out of here!”</span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-family: Liberation Serif, serif;">Dostin
followed his master after a quick look back at where Seri Halik had
disappeared back into the woods.</span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
“<span style="font-family: Liberation Serif, serif;">I
need to know the contents of the message that has been brought. If
the girl is telling the truth, it seems House of Halik is the
recipient of that message.” Young Master Avnar said, the gears in
his mind were turning. The last thing he wanted to see was a
resurgence of the competing house. Besides, even if it was able to
regain some wealth, without heirs they were doomed anyway.</span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-family: Liberation Serif, serif;">Seri
discreetly watched them leave. She had been a bit thrilled to show
off her power for the first time but leave it to the jaded Terk Avnar
to not bat an eye. Of course, he would be accustomed to that sort of
thing. He had a large family where many of its members had powers.
The House of Avnar was extremely powerful and it wasn't only due to
their fortune.</span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-family: Liberation Serif, serif;">If
things turned out bad, maybe she would reconsider his offer of
marriage. Terk might surprise her and actually become a mature adult
eventually. Stranger things have happened. Including Seri realizing
that she had a power, the first female in Halik family history as far
as anyone knew. There were two other great houses she could try and
marry into if things got too bleak, it's not like there was no
choice.</span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-family: Liberation Serif, serif;">They
didn't know. She had kept it a secret from her father and
grandfather. Grandfather might not approve for one reason or another
and father because he had no power. It had skipped a generation and
her father felt like a failure and had become a drunk. Too bad
grandfather had not brought more sons into the world to keep the
family name from dying out.</span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-family: Liberation Serif, serif;">Seri
put the cloak back over her head as she re-entered the village
through the eastern gate, the wallmen hardly even looked at her. At
one point she saw a large young man carrying a wine barrel and
putting it onto a wagon. He turned to look around and she turned her
back to him, pretending to look at the apples the old hag Vamira was
selling from a cart.</span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
“<span style="font-family: Liberation Serif, serif;">It
was Mars Croce, his father must have sent him.” She thought to
herself. His father was Nehemiah Croce who wielded the power of
psionics, who also boasted two powerful sons. The man never boasted
about Mars, who had no power, even though he was big, strong and
intelligent. Mars, though, would rather read a book than practice
fighting.</span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-family: Liberation Serif, serif;">As
Mars trundled away with the hand cart and the barrels and other goods
from the merchant, Seri turned to the old hag and asked, “These
apples aren't poisoned, right?”</span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-family: Liberation Serif, serif;">The
old hag Vamira fumed. “Of course not, horrible child.”</span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-family: Liberation Serif, serif;">Seri
purchased two apples and headed home, the message from Brevick could
be received without any notice and she wanted to be there when it
came. Whatever it was had grandfather quite excited, he had a twinkle
in his good eye again.</span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-family: Liberation Serif, serif;">When
she reached grandfathers bedchamber he was sitting up and her father,
looking sober, was seated in a chair next to the bed. They barely
acknowledged her when she entered because they seemed to be deep in
thought. Perhaps grandfather was seeing something with his mind
again.</span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
“<span style="font-family: Liberation Serif, serif;">The
messenger is still aboard High Port.” Her father said, “But he
has recovered enough to wake up and we will soon be able to receive
the message.”</span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-family: Liberation Serif, serif;">When
Seri approached her grandfathers bed she passed through something she
could not see from the other side, and turned to see the holographic
video screen floating in the center of the room. A man with wounds
and burns on his face, glossy with medi-gel, appeared there.</span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
“<span style="font-family: Liberation Serif, serif;">My
name is Rodgers Blake. I was a Lieutenant for your cousin, Will
Halik, before he died back in the war. I continued to work for the
Halik family until the end, even after. We allied with the forces
loyal to the Croce family and finally, after all this time, we
managed to depose the tyrant Governor of Brevick.” The man told
them.</span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
“<span style="font-family: Liberation Serif, serif;">You
have done well.” Grandfather said.</span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
“<span style="font-family: Liberation Serif, serif;">Thank
you. With Marlton out of power, a Republic restored, the old
properties revert back to the Halik family. Of course, we have to be
able to hold on to this victory. Our grip on Brevick is loose and
tenuous, which might still be an overstatement.” Rodgers Blake
said, “We've lost the only two people with powers we had through
assassinations, now... I don't know what is going to happen.”</span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
“<span style="font-family: Liberation Serif, serif;">Are
the Croce forces led by someone with powers?” Seri's father asked.</span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
“<span style="font-family: Liberation Serif, serif;">Yes,
but if we have nothing to show for this, I think the Croce family
will be able to push anything to do with Halik right out of the
picture.” The man said, “If we can't even be good junior partners
in this effort, we'll likely soon be no partner at all.”</span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
“<span style="font-family: Liberation Serif, serif;">Sounds
hopeful but grim.” Grandfather said, “A strange combination.”</span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
“<span style="font-family: Liberation Serif, serif;">Or
grim but hopeful.” Seri muttered mostly to herself.</span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
“<span style="font-family: Liberation Serif, serif;">Unless
you have army you aren't using that you can send...” Rodgers Blake
said, “I'm not sure what the future holds, but at least we had
something to call a victory. If that tyrant regains office, probably
with the Avnar faction, then I am sure his vengeance will be swift.”</span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
“<span style="font-family: Liberation Serif, serif;">I
am heartened that there were some who stayed loyal even after the
House of Halik fell onto hard times. I will do what I can to make
some alliance with the Croce family, if that will help. Or find some
other route if I am able.” Grandfather said, before coughing
several times.</span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
“<span style="font-family: Liberation Serif, serif;">I
am ever your servant, sir. Blake out.” The man said and the
connection was cut. The holoscreen faded out like a cloud breaking up
in the sky.</span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
“<span style="font-family: Liberation Serif, serif;">Father.”
Seri's father said, “We have nothing. There is nothing we can do to
send help to these people on Brevick.”</span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
“<span style="font-family: Liberation Serif, serif;">We'll
do something, Jon.” the patriarch said, clearing his throat, “We
cannot abandon Brevick.”</span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
“<span style="font-family: Liberation Serif, serif;">I
don't even know how long we can even feed ourselves.” Her father
said as he stood up and left the room.</span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-family: Liberation Serif, serif;">Seri
moved her seat closer to the bed. It was time to tell him the truth.
It was time for her grandfather to know. </span>
</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
“<span style="font-family: Liberation Serif, serif;">Grandfather.
What we need is someone who has power, who can rally those who side
with us, or sympathize with our side, correct?” She asked.</span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
“<span style="font-family: Liberation Serif, serif;">Yes,
Seri child. We don't really need to send an army to another star
system, such an undertaking would be far beyond our ability.” He
answered her, “If only your father had been given a power at birth,
things would be so much different.”</span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-family: Liberation Serif, serif;">She
leaned over to get close to her grandfather and whispered “I have a
power.”</span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-family: Liberation Serif, serif;">His
eyes widened. “Is this true?”</span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-family: Liberation Serif, serif;">Seri
nodded. “I didn't want to tell anyone because it might make father
more sad than he already is.”</span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-family: Liberation Serif, serif;">Her
grandfather chuckled. “No. I'm the old fashion one. Your father
would be overjoyed, he would feel less like a failure if he knew his
own daughter had a power.”</span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-family: Liberation Serif, serif;">Seri
was surprised. Is this true? Had she been thinking wrong on this the
whole time?</span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
“<span style="font-family: Liberation Serif, serif;">Send
me, Grandfather. Send me to Brevick.” She told him.</span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-family: Liberation Serif, serif;">He
shook his head and weakly waved a hand. “I cannot do that. You are
too young and...” he saw the look on her face, “Yes, and because
you are a girl. Girls are precious to the human race, such as it is,
it is truly biologically necessary for girls to be protected.”</span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
“<span style="font-family: Liberation Serif, serif;">There
are far more females around than necessary to propagate the human
race, Grandfather. The House of Halik needs me to go to Brevick.”
She told him, “Oh, and where would I have inherited the freezing
power anyway?”</span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
“<span style="font-family: Liberation Serif, serif;">Freezing?”
Her grandfather, his thick eyebrows arching. asked. “Your maternal
grandmother, I suppose. She was a cold one.”</span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
“<span style="font-family: Liberation Serif, serif;">Send
me to Brevick.” She said.</span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
“<span style="font-family: Liberation Serif, serif;">You
aren't a soldier, Seri.” Her grandfather said, “Besides, your
father would have to approve.”</span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-family: Liberation Serif, serif;">Seri
stood up and crossed her arms. “He'll let me, it is the only way.”</span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
GeronLhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13145189615256636055noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5787869099782509690.post-33590409676859659582017-02-12T00:47:00.000-08:002017-02-12T00:47:01.049-08:00House of Halik - part one<h2 style="text-align: center;">
House of Halik - </h2>
<h3 style="text-align: center;">
part one</h3>
<br />
<br />
<br />
<style type="text/css">P { margin-bottom: 0.08in; }</style>
<br />
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
I</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
A young man and his large, muscular
friend exited the Public House laughing at a joke only they had
heard. The young man wore a short, trimmed beard but his hair had
been allowed to go a bit wild. The larger fellow, his hair was
trimmed and his beard was taken care of but longer, denoting his age.</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
After exiting the establishment they
found another man lying on the curb, obviously too intoxicated to
even get up and go home.</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
“Would you lookee here, Dostin. If
mine eyes are right, I spy Jon Halik, lying on the ground
insensible.” He said, then gave a loud laugh.</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
“He does resemble Mister Halik, sir.”
The large man said. “Perhaps we should help him go home before it
gets too late.”</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
“No.” The young man said, “If'n
he wants to sleep out under the stars and get pissed on, then he has
that right, Dostin.”</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
Dostin closed his eyes in resignation
as the younger man began unfastening the buttons on the front of his
pants. “The House of Halik has fallen on hard times, let us not
deprive them of the full experience of this poverty.”</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
Dostin looked away, disgusted. His hand
dropped to the hilt of the sword at his waist as he scanned for any
enemy that might attack his master. But it was dark outside and most
everyone was already at home sleeping.</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
“The bum doesn't even react.” The
young man, rearing a leg back and delivering a kick to the prone
man's stomach, eliciting a groan. “That's better. The Halik lives,
Dostin, you are my witness.”</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
“Master Avnar, let us get back to the
House before the brawgs show up.” Dostin said, the pack of wild
brawgs would likely attack anyone caught outside.</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
“Jon Halik will be fine, the brawgs
won't attack one of their own kind.” Master Avnar said, laughing at
his own wit. The old boast by a younger Jon Halik that he could fight
like a brawg was just bragging, besides he lost more fights than he
had ever won.</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
“We shouldn't leave him here.”
Dostin said, but the public house was closing.
</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
Master Avnar waved a hand in the air
and sighed. “Look, we'll just get the wallman Diggs to fetch him
home.”</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
“Very good, master.” The big man
said as they walked toward the middle of the walled village where a
tower stood at the intersection of the four great houses. The wallman
came out and looked down at them from his perch.
</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
“What are you doing out here<span style="font-family: Liberation Serif, serif;">?</span><span style="font-family: Liberation Serif, serif;">
Do not you know what time it be</span><span style="font-family: Liberation Serif, serif;">?”
The stout older man with a gray-streaked beard to the top of his
stomach called to them.</span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
“<span style="font-family: Liberation Serif, serif;">It
is I, Dostin, man of his Master Avnar of House Avnar.” Dostin
responded. “Jon Halik lays inebriated in front of the public house
near the east wall. You would be a credit to the order of the wall if
you would fetch him home.”</span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-family: Liberation Serif, serif;">As
annoyed as wallman Diggs was, it was his job. He had his post at the
center of the village specifically to guard and assist the great
houses. Halik was no longer quite so great but it had been in recent
memory. Diggs climbed down from the tower and proceeded to do as
told.</span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
“<span style="font-family: Liberation Serif, serif;">If
the brawgs come over the wall while I am carrying him, I will let
them have him and escape.” The old man told himself with a laugh.
When he found the drunken Jon Halik, he adjusted the strap on his
weapon, slinging it to his back. Then he picked up Halik as if he
weighed what a small child would.</span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
“<span style="font-family: Liberation Serif, serif;">You
smell like a latrine.” The wallman told the unconscious form as he
carried him. “What is your father going to think about this? You
have a child, man. You aren't a young prawn any longer. Pull it
together.”</span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-family: Liberation Serif, serif;">Diggs
found the formerly majestic front gate of the House of Halik where
only one torch was burning instead of the customary eight of the old
days. Once upon a time this House would have fielded its own army of
guards, now the gate was unguarded.</span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-family: Liberation Serif, serif;">Diggs
lowered the man to the ground and then pulled the cord that would
ring a bell inside. He waited for any kind of sign that they had
heard. He was only going to do this one more time, and then get back
to his tower. He reached his hand toward the cord for another yank
when one side of the great double-door opened.</span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
“<span style="font-family: Liberation Serif, serif;">What
is it?” A feminine voice inquired.</span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
“<span style="font-family: Liberation Serif, serif;">Jon
Halik, he's passed out and all.” Diggs said. The gate opened a bit
more and a small girl rushed to the man on the ground. Her hair was
in a long tail behind her and she was wearing a thick white bed gown
to her ankles. Diggs didn't remember her name.</span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
“<span style="font-family: Liberation Serif, serif;">Father!”
She said, “Spending all day getting drunk again, I see.”</span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
“<span style="font-family: Liberation Serif, serif;">Shall
I ferry him to his bed?” Diggs asked.</span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
“<span style="font-family: Liberation Serif, serif;">No.”
The girl answered, “We'll handle it from here.”</span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-family: Liberation Serif, serif;">Diggs
turned to leave but stopped and looked back. “Just get him inside
before any brawgs show up.”</span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
“<span style="font-family: Liberation Serif, serif;">Yes.”
The girl said. Diggs slowly shook his head and walked back to his
watch tower. One upon a time Jon Halik looked like a sure thing to
become a Baron. Winning that title would have saved his family from
their present misfortune. Now they lived in a large house, full of
history and grandeur that the people alive there could not live up
to.</span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-family: Liberation Serif, serif;">After
returning to his tower he pulled his weapon and checked the settings.
Yes, if the brawgs somehow got past the outer wall and showed up he
could get some of them. His energy weapon was good for a couple
hundred yards, and it had a quarter charge.</span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-family: Liberation Serif, serif;">Halik,
he still had some respect for the name after all.</span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-family: Liberation Serif, serif;">The
girl ran through the dark corridors of House Halik after hearing the
voice of her grandfather, and found him sitting up in bed. He was
looking far older than his years and his silver beard was unkempt.</span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
“<span style="font-family: Liberation Serif, serif;">Where
is my son?” The old man demanded.</span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
“<span style="font-family: Liberation Serif, serif;">He
is sleeping, he was not feeling well, grandfather.” The girl said,
meekly.</span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
“<span style="font-family: Liberation Serif, serif;">My
son needs to be at my side when word from Brevick has been received.”
The man said with some finality.</span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
“<span style="font-family: Liberation Serif, serif;">Yes,
grandfather. But there are no ships from Brevick waiting for port.”
the girl said.</span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
“<span style="font-family: Liberation Serif, serif;">There
will be. The message will come soon enough.” The Halik patriarch
boomed, “I will need my son here with me.”</span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-family: Liberation Serif, serif;">Seri
was a filial granddaughter. It was impossible for her to argue with
the men of the house, even her own father. She mentally kicked
herself for thinking like that. With everyone else looking down on
him and thinking him a failure, she very well should not.</span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
“<span style="font-family: Liberation Serif, serif;">Yes,
grandfather.” She responded. “He shall.”</span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-family: Liberation Serif, serif;">With
that she took her leave. Outside of the door she leaned against a
wall and took deep breaths, it had gone better than expected. It was
thought that grandfather Halik was senile and that he did not truly
understand the present misfortunes of House Halik. That he was still
living the glory days of years past.</span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-family: Liberation Serif, serif;">If
grandfather said there would be a message from Brevick, then there
would be. Possibly he had the timing misjudged but that message would
arrive eventually. He had the sight. His visions had been more
precise and timely when he was younger, but always he had the sight.</span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-family: Liberation Serif, serif;">Seri's
father had not inherited the sight. This had been quite shocking to
grandfather. As shocking as losing two other sons in their infancy
had been. The House Halik was hanging by a thread and there were no
sons of Jon Halik to make things right. Her father had tried to
produce a son, he had spread his seed to no avail. Seri had quite a
few half-sisters out there somewhere.</span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
“<span style="font-family: Liberation Serif, serif;">What
could possibly be so important from Brevick?” She muttered as she
navigated the tight, dark labyrinth of the House. Why was grandfather
so worked up over it? If he had told them anything more they wouldn't
be so anxious about it.</span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-family: Liberation Serif, serif;">Once
upon a time House Halik had owned properties on Brevick, but those
had been lost along with everything else. Instead of a great House
receiving treasure and goods from other worlds, today they could
hardly afford enough torches for the night. Instead of a small army
of guards and their own starships, they had fallen to this. Seri kept
a blade strapped to her leg in her own house.</span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-family: Liberation Serif, serif;">Upon
entering her suite she locked the door and threw off the bedclothes
she wore. It was itchy and stifling hot. Seri would rather it be
winter where she could at least be comfortable under a pile of
blankets. The House once had a cooling system but hadn't worked since
Seri could remember, the house was two centuries old after all.</span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-family: Liberation Serif, serif;">It
was nearly noon before Master Avnar woke up, washed up and gone
downstairs for his first meal of the day. Dostin was waiting in the
corridor outside the bedroom and followed him as a loyal bodygiard
should.</span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
“<span style="font-family: Liberation Serif, serif;">Good
morning Master Avnar.” Dostin said pleasantly.</span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-family: Liberation Serif, serif;">The
young man stopped and looked at his servant with an appalled look on
his face. “Can you say that again without the sunny disposition? It
was so sweet I won't need honey in my tea.”</span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-family: Liberation Serif, serif;">Dostin
nodded and in a deep growl, as if grief would overtake him he said,
“Good morning, Master Avnar.”</span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
“<span style="font-family: Liberation Serif, serif;">Appropriately
funereal.” The younger man said, satisfied, as they started their
quest for the dining room once more. “The worst part of it, is that
it's not noon yet. I hate mornings.”</span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
“<span style="font-family: Liberation Serif, serif;">Yes
sir.” Dostin said, in a deep gravelly voice to play along.</span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-family: Liberation Serif, serif;">Finally
they found the kitchen empty. The young man crossed his arms. “Who
is going to make breakfast since the cook seems to have gone
missing?”</span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
“<span style="font-family: Liberation Serif, serif;">Shall
I?” Dostin offered.</span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-family: Liberation Serif, serif;">Again
the young man waved a hand. “No, no. I shall do this myself.”</span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-family: Liberation Serif, serif;">Dostin
feigned shock.</span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-family: Liberation Serif, serif;">Master
Avnar sliced two pieces of bread and laid them on a metal platter.
Then he laid three strips of raw bacon nearby, finally he cracked an
egg right in the center. He picked up the platter and carried it to
the table as Dostin followed, rolling his eyes.</span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-family: Liberation Serif, serif;">When
the metal platter hit the table, the bread was toasted, the egg was
fried and the bacon was cooked nicely. Master Avnar liked to show off
his power like this, even if Dostin was the only audience.</span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
“<span style="font-family: Liberation Serif, serif;">I
forgot the coffee.” Master Avnar said, and quickly there was water
and crushed coffee beans in front of him. Dostin had seen this
coming. It was a regular routine for his master after all.</span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
“<span style="font-family: Liberation Serif, serif;">Have
you eaten, Dostin?” Master Avnar asked absently as he spooned some
eggs into his mouth.</span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
“<span style="font-family: Liberation Serif, serif;">Hours
ago, sir.” </span>
</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
“<span style="font-family: Liberation Serif, serif;">Any
news? Please tell me that it's no longer morning.”</span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
“<span style="font-family: Liberation Serif, serif;">A
few minutes of morning still remain, sir.” Dostin informed him. “As
for news, there was a crippled ship that made port this morning.
Seems as if most of its systems were out and there were signs of
battle damage.”</span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
“<span style="font-family: Liberation Serif, serif;">Battle
damage?” Mater Avnar asked, perking up. “Where did this ship
originate?”</span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
“<span style="font-family: Liberation Serif, serif;">Brevick,
sir.”</span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-family: Liberation Serif, serif;">Avnar
nodded. “I shall have to inquire of this further.”</span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
“<span style="font-family: Liberation Serif, serif;">Yes
sir.”</span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
GeronLhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13145189615256636055noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5787869099782509690.post-47565229308258424812017-01-23T17:28:00.001-08:002017-01-23T17:28:06.950-08:00Untitled Draft - chap 1, Arrival in Baggle<br />
<div style="text-align: center;">
<b><br /></b></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: center;">
<b>Chapter One</b></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: center;">
<i><b>Arrival in Baggle</b></i><br />
</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
Anpor was a beacon of hope for people
around the world, and lately, this was especially true for the
residents of Carn Isla. They were coming over by the boatload to
Baggle, the biggest city, in Anpor where they would be second-class
citizens, toiling away at the most menial of jobs.</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
But that there were jobs at all made it
leaps and bounds better than staying and starving on the ancestral
island. Certainly you'd scrimp and save in Anpor, but you had no real
chance back home. There was plentiful food in Anpor, expensive, but
there was often nothing to buy back in Carn Isla.
</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
Katerin Smalley wrote back to her kin
that Anpor was the greatest nation on Earth, even while living in the
tenement slums of the poorest district of Baggle. Most others who had
come to Anpor before the Carn Islans looked down on them, mistreated
them and were continually surprised by how patriotic these newcomers
were.</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
Two weeks in the bowels of the steadily
rocking ship, Yeoman, had left Yalan sick to his stomach. He would be
vomiting a lot if he had eaten enough to purge. All he had was a
ratty old mattress in the crowded storeroom with more stains than he
cared to count, interestingly of many different colors.</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
The sound of the bells from above got
everyones attention. The furry wolfish female in the cot next to his
growled and snapped at him when he perked up. This Perkin was
ancient, she should know by now that Carn Islaners had no interest in
her species. They were completely incompatible.
</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
Yalan might be small enough to make a
good thief, when healthy, but those crowded into the hold with him
were as poor as he was. He had a hidden pocket in his trousers where
he had a small, shiny coin of melulin. It would be enough to keep the
immigration inspectors from declaring him a vagrant and sending him
back across that heaving and hateful ocean.</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
Baggle was home to many species, they
mixed but they never matched. They all lived in the same crowded city
and got along, more or less, by ignoring everyone else. The politics
of Baggle was controlled by bosses, most of them were of the Prosters
or Poshists persuasion. Elections there were often fought with fists
and sticks or bricks.</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
It didn't matter. It was still better
than starving to death in Carn Isla. At least in a city like Baggle
one had the chance to work and survive. When he was invited by his
cousin Dandru Lin, he accepted without having to think about it. He
had thought about crossing for years before the invitation and Yalan
was as ready as ever.</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
It tooks months of begging all of his
kin and backbreaking work to scrounge up the resources to get a
passage scrip on a ship and the coin. He hadn't eaten much on the
voyage, finding the tossing and rocking of the vessel made him ill.
He drank water and ate enough gruel, in his estimation, to not die.</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
The bells. The dark hold was lit up as
someone opened a hatch, Yalan joined everyone else in getting up and
moving toward the exits. A shout went up. The spires and towers of
Baggle were seen in the distance, after weeks of merely existing,
excitement was bubbling forth. The land of opportunity was within a
days reach, and Yalan found himself being shoved aside by all of the
larger species crushing to get a glimpse.</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
Through the hatch and up the
stairwells, Yalan found a railing to stand on, keeping stable by
wrapping his toes around it. In the distance, just a shadow loomed
through some fog. Towers and spires could be made out, larger than
any constructed back in his home nation. Yalans' mind hardly
conceived how such a thing were possible, such wealth.</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
They say Baggle never stands still.
Commerce moves at a rapid pace and this is where the opportunity was
created. For while the currency of Carn Isla was usually hoarded
jealously, here it was spent or invested in new things. There was no
opportunity for the truly poor back home, some escaped through the
work houses, hiring out to serve the wealthy or doing things not
talked about in polite company.</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
Here, though... Yalan grinned at the
thought, “here”, he was definitely here. Here the poor had a
chance in a bustling crowded city where commerce was king. A poor
girl might sell hot corn in the Autumn and sweep the street in winter
to make enough coin to live another day, poor boys could sell news
sheets and do manual labor.</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
Dandru Lin had written about her
experiences, good and bad. How she finally rented a tenement in the
Middle Points District, took in sewing, did laundry, sold corn and
many other things. Somehow she had survived and met a fellow Carn
Islan emigre named Isra, whom she bonded.</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
Just before the star dipped below the
horizon Yalan was able to see the city of Baggle close up, it was a
marvel. It seemed to be larger than all of Carn Isla, and as tall as
the clouds. There were many other ships coming and going, churning
steam while some used windsails. The city might not physically move
but the commerce never stopped, he could feel the vibrancy of the
place just from the shipping alone. No sleepy burg was this.</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
The ship was ported the next morning as
soon as the star gave its light. Gangplanks were erected and the
passengers were quick to walk down and touch the land of Anpor. They
were divided between species and then by male and female to different
points of the immigration process. It seemed that Carn Islans made up
almost half of this batch.</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
Yalan found himself lined up with other
Carn Islans waiting in a long snaking line into a large, wide brick
building. Soon they were prodded and poked through a healths screen.
The medic attendant declared him healthy “besides seasickness”
and he was graduated to the next table.</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
The little furry official with round
bifocals looked at Yalan and asked, “Have you any family in Anpor?
Who is your contact? Guarantor?”</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
“My cousin, Dandru Lin... “ He
answered while digging through his small bag for the official
invitation document, “Here it is.”</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
The official looked closely at the
piece of paper and then stamped it. Then he looked at Yalan again,
“Are you going to be a burden on society? How will you support
yourself?”</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
“I have worked cutting wood, as a
cobbler, I have worked on farms too. I have a strong work ethic and I
would..” Yalan paused, maybe he misunderstood, “Are you asking if
I'm broke?”</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
“Yes, sorry about that,” the
creature answered with a grin.</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
Yalan reached into his trousers, which
caused some alarm, but he pulled out the coin.</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
After examining the coin and weighing
it to make sure it was real melulin, which weighed more than almost
anything else of the same size, he was satisfied.</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
“That's worth about 12 pops at the
present M price, so you aren't indigent according to the law. Fill
out this information card and then wait over there until you get your
official paper. After that, welcome to Anpor, you are a free
citizen.”</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
“That's it?” Yalan asked.</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
“The free immigration period ends in
a few years, maybe it won't be renewed next time. For now, though,
yes that is all.” The official waved him through.</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
As he waited for his official document
he watched the street outside. It was busy, so many people and so
many species walking one way or the other, wagons, handcarts and
trolleys in the street moving as if they had to get somewhere
important.</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
You could get an idea of the social
ladder by seeing how they were dressed. A young Carn Islan boy in
rags was selling newsheets and a passing Poshist purchased one. The
Poshist was wearing a fine, clean gray suit and read the headlines
for a moment before another poor Carn Isla boy offered to black his
boots for him. This made Yalan a bit shamed of the patched rags he
wore.</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
His cousin had described all of this to
him in her letters, Yalan marveled at her accuracy.</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
Yalan was free. With his official
papers and ID card, he was walking. The sidewalks were wide, the
buildings were tall and there were so many storefronts. A hulkish
Walan hawking tomatoes from a pushcart said “Good day, sir” as he
passed.</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
Yalan never expected to see so many of
different species getting along. The walking and the freedom made him
feel better, no more seasickness. Instead his stomach was rumbling
and demanding food while his brain was trying to figure out the way
to find his cousins home.</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
Yalan didn't want to spend the coin but
after eating so little on the voyage, the hunger was real and
insistent. He found a Carn Isla woman selling bread loaves on the
street.
</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
“Two pence!” She stated the price.</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
“I only have this coin, I don't
suppose you could...”</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
She looked disappointed, “Do you
really think a poor woman like me is going to be able to change that,
sir?”</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
“I'm sorry. Are you from Shiredun?”
He asked.</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
“Yes, I guess I still have my accent.
I'm Arvi-aya from the Aya clan, kind sir.” She informed him.</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
“Good fortune to find someone who was
a neighbor back home in the old country! I am Yalan, of the Iva
clan.” Yalan exclaimed, “Miss Arvi, could you tell me where I can
make change for this coin? Therefor allowing me to purchase bread
loaves from you?”</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
After being told that a bank was
nearby, Yalan returned with a pocket full of smaller denomination
coins to purchase bread.
</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
“Do you happen to know the best way
to reach the Middle Points neighborhood? I am due at the home of my
cousin in the Fourteen Dorchester building,” Yalan said, finishing
off the first bread loaf.</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
The woman shook her head, “You really
are fresh off the boat, ain't ya? I live right by there, I know it
well.”</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
Yalan followed her instructions, but
wondered if it was correct as the buildings got smaller, more squat
and everything became dirtier and more squalid. Then he found a
street sign, Dorchester and followed it to building number 14.</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
It was a four-story building and looked
to have several tiny apartments on each floor. Once inside he climbed
the steps to the third floor, loosening his collar as the air was
warm and unfresh. Finally he found the right door, with the broken 32
and knocked.</div>
GeronLhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13145189615256636055noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5787869099782509690.post-83848527834171057592016-12-26T22:10:00.002-08:002016-12-26T22:10:24.636-08:00Lonely Space - Chapter Nine<br /><a href="http://flscifi.blogspot.com/2016/12/lonely-space-chapter-eight.html">Chapter Eight</a><br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
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<div align="CENTER" style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-size: small;"><b>Chapter
Nine</b></span></div>
<div align="CENTER" style="font-weight: normal; line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<i>Encounter with a Titan</i></div>
<div style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<div style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<div style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
As they climbed down
an access ladder, because there were no lifts in evidence, it
occurred to Tamita that the darkened corridor also had a higher
ceiling than the rest of the ship she had seen. It was like they had
simply welded another ship to the front of the <i>Salutem Novis</i>.
She meant to bring this up to Jay Johnson but they were both climbing
silently.</div>
<div style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<div style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
Finally they reached
the next lower deck. Here she was certain the ceiling was higher.
Much higher.</div>
<div style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<div style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
“Jay, the
ceiling.” she said. He looked up and nodded “Yeah, I noticed that
too.”</div>
<div style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<div style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
The main computer
spoke to them “I had registered larger spaces through a radar scan
but it was not nearly detailed enough to see how large it was
exactly.”</div>
<div style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<div style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
They began walking
but stopped. There was no corridor here. Instead there was a huge
door hatch, and Jay did not see any device that would open it. “I
don't know what is going on here, but something is definitely going
on.”</div>
<div style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<div style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
Tamita nodded. “I'm
not sure I really want to meet what uses this door.”</div>
<div style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<div style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
“Good point.”
Jay agreed. “Computer, maybe it would safer to get back to where we
belong.”</div>
<div style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<div style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
The main computer
answered “I leave this up to you, as the human crew. If you feel it
is too dangerous to continue, then by all means return. A hatch that
measures 3 meters wide and 8 meters tall is quite a mystery.”</div>
<div style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<div style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
“Everything here
looks like part of a different ship.” Jay said “This hatch looks
like it might not even be a human one.”</div>
<div style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<div style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
“It's cold here
too.” Tamita said “Quite a bit colder, actually.”</div>
<div style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<div style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
Jay nodded, it
hadn't registered yet with him but she was right. “What could be
the purpose of all this? You don't think it's some kind of protective
buffer?”</div>
<div style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<div style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
The main computer
“Negative. That possibility is quite remote.”</div>
<div style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<div style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
Tamita was shivering
and tapping a foot “I don't want to stay here any more. Can we just
leave?”</div>
<div style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<div style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
Jay put an arm
around her and started back toward the access ladder. “After we
reprogram the Rovers I could come back with a few of them and I can
be armed. Then maybe we could find a way to see what is on the other
side of that.”</div>
<div style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<div style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
Jay Johnson took off
the wrist device and laid it on the floor, facing the hatch. Then he
and Tamita climbed back up the ladder past where the ceiling was.</div>
<div style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<div style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
“Why did you do
that?” she asked him looking down at him, noticing that he stopped
climbing.</div>
<div style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<div style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
“Just a hunch.”
he answered “Okay, lets go.”</div>
<div style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<div style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
So they climbed back
the way they came and walked back to where they had left Gopher.</div>
<div style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<div style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
“If we go down a
couple of decks we should be where that chamber is but on the other
side.” he told her as they moved “I have a feeling there is a
wall and not a hatch. There are probably not many routes into the
dark part of the ship.”</div>
<div style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<div style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
“Okay, so why
would they attach another vessel to the front of this one?” Tamita
stopped and asked “That doesn't make any sense”.</div>
<div style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<div style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
Jay walked back to
her and put an arm around her shoulder, again and walked again. Keep
moving, he was trying to say without words. “Maybe the project
chiefs didn't know about it. The world was falling into chaos, after
all, maybe someone chose that time to make a secret addition.”</div>
<div style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<div style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
“You think there
are stowaways?” she asked stopping again.</div>
<div style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<div style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
“Could be!” he
said “Just keep walking.”</div>
<div style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<div style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
She looked back into
the darker corridor. “There may be other people on this ship with
us?”</div>
<div style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<div style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
“Come on” Jay
said, this time holding her hand “Gopher is waiting for us.”</div>
<div style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<div style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
The little robot was
watching them as they approached. “Gopher, I'm not going down there
again without a plasma laser rifle and an army of droids.”</div>
<div style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<div style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
“Droids? Isn't
that a fictional designation for robots?” Gopher asked
</div>
<div style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<div style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
Tamita said “Don't
listen to him. He missed you.”</div>
<div style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<div style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
Gopher moved in
front of them and faced him as he walked. “You have formed an
emotional attachment to Gopher, shall we hug?” It asked holding its
arms wide and stopping. Jay walked right into it “Stop it, this
isn't funny.” he said pushing Gophers closing arms away.</div>
<div style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<div style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
Tamita was laughing
though.</div>
<div style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<div style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
“Listen, this is
serious. I want to find out what is on this ship with us.” he told
them “Then I want to know what we can do about it.”</div>
<div style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<div style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
With incomplete
information there was no answer to these questions, the computer
knew. If indeed there was a presence of other persons or things
aboard, then it needed to be assessed whether they might be hostile
or non-violent. They seemed to be hiding, this would suggest they did
not want to be found and possibly not be offensively hostile. The
best course of action in that instance would be to leave them alone.</div>
<div style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<div style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
Something had
reprogrammed the rovers and the service modules though and left no
real sign of how or why they had done it. That, the computer thought,
had been a very hostile act.</div>
<div style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<div style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
“Options,
computer, let's hear them.” Jay Johnson said as they entered the
room that had become their main room. The two humans sat at the small
round table and Gopher hovered nearby.</div>
<div style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<div style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
“If there are
indeed others aboard they might possibly be non-violent, preferring
to stay hidden. If these persons were responsible for the
programming faults of the rovers and service modules, then I would
have to classify them as malevolent.” the computer said “The
options are, assuming again that they exist and that they are
hostile, to completely blockade the few access corridors available.
Or, your suggestion, send you in with arms and rovers programmed to
defend you. Or I could place you both back into cryogenic suspension
to protect you from harm.”</div>
<div style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<div style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
The humans looked a
bit stunned by the last suggestion.</div>
<div style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<div style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
“If those things
are hostile and responsible for damaging the ship, you can't afford
not to have humans around.” Jay Johnson said.</div>
<div style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<div style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
“Affirmative.”</div>
<div style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<div style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
“It would feel
kind of strange to wall the area off without knowing for sure what is
there.” Tamita said looking at the table top. “Not that I would
mind feeling weird.”</div>
<div style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<div style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
Jay nodded “Have
you manufactured the new rover computer cores?”</div>
<div style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<div style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
The main computer
answered “Yes, Jay. They are available whenever you are prepared to
install them.”</div>
<div style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<div style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
“If something in
that part of the ship tampered with them before, they could do it
again.” Tamita said “Going down there with an army of rovers that
might turn against you seems really stupid.”</div>
<div style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<div style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
After some silence,
during which the computer noted that Tamita took Jay Johnson's hands
into her own as they stared into each others eyes. “I can design
and produce what is called an interrupt function, or as you might
say, a dead-mans' switch. One that would allow you to shut down the
rovers with the touch of a button.”</div>
<div style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<div style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
“I guess I have to
do it.” Jay said quietly to Tamita before adding loudly and looking
at the terminal on the wall “But I'm going to be armed, okay?”</div>
<div style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<div style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
The switch would be
on his belt. He would wear a multi-functional wristband this time as
well as carry a plasma pulse laser rifle slung over his shoulder.
Before this, though, he would make a space walk outside of the bridge
dome and put new cores into 6 of the tiger-like rovers. While there
were more rovers locked into a storage shelter, it was decided that
these rovers would be the ones to use.</div>
<div style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<div style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
Jay Johnson wasn't
exactly sure how they were picked but it happened. Each of them,
after being reprogrammed, would have certain attachments to make them
into his army. One of them would carry a scanner and jamming system,
while another would carry a grenade launcher. Just as a for instance.</div>
<div style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<div style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
“Okay, recruits,
fall into line.” he ordered them and they complied. They followed
him into the airlock and then out into the corridor. Tamita backed
up, she was still afraid of them. Jay smiled and took off his helmet.
“I'll get the suit off and then I'll be right back.”</div>
<div style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<div style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
Soon enough they
were back into their main room. The computer had something to report
to them using the holographic monitor there. The six rovers were
waiting patiently outside in the corridor.</div>
<div style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<div style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
“Using the
scanning device that Jay Johnson left outside of the hatch in the
dark area of the ship I was able to determine that something was
moving inside.” the computer said “It is very sketchy but there
is most certainly movement.”</div>
<div style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<div style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
An ink blot would
have more detail than the images they were being shown.</div>
<div style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<div style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
“I see you do not
understand. Let me superimpose the hatch.”</div>
<div style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<div style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
Then the same
static-type movement was shown overlaying an image of the enormous
hatch, whatever was moving in there was very large.</div>
<div style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<div style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
“That is not a
human.” Tamita said “That thing must be at least eighteen feet
tall.”</div>
<div style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<div style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
Jay Johnson suddenly
felt like his gun was not big enough. “Computer do you have
emergency hatch doors if this thing suddenly pulled free from the
rest of the ship?”</div>
<div style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<div style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
After a second it
answered “Assuming it did so without causing structural damage,
yes. I do not understand how the question is germane. Do you have
reason to believe that this entity has the ability to separate from
the rest of the ship?”</div>
<div style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<div style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
“No.” he
admitted “It's just a feeling.”</div>
<div style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<div style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
Then after another
moment he asked. “Do you have a way to check how that section is
actually physically connected? If you do, check to see if it was
added with explosive bolts. If not, I would feel better about all
this.”</div>
<div style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<div style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
The computer
answered “Yes. I can send nanites into the ship to find out the
answer to this query.”</div>
<div style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<div style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
“Nanites?”
Tamita asked “You mean you have some of those microscopic robots on
board?”</div>
<div style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<div style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
The computer
answered “Affirmative. They are invaluable for any number of roles.
They repair micro-circuitry, they clean the interior of the ship and
other things.”</div>
<div style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<div style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
Jay Johnson stood up
and checked the way the gun sling hung from his shoulder “All
right. I guess we should get this show on the road.”</div>
<div style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<div style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
“If it gets too
dangerous...” Tamita told him “Just get out of there.”</div>
<div style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<div style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
He nodded.
“Hopefully it's not hostile. It might not have been it or he or
whatever, that sabotage the robots before. We just do not know.”</div>
<div style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<div style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
Tamita walked up to
him and kissed him “You better come back.”</div>
<div style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<div style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
“Oh, I will! I'm
not that brave.” he told her “The rovers can do the real
fighting.”</div>
<div style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<div style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
“Then hurry up.”
she told him.</div>
<div style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<div style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
She watched him and
the six rovers leave and turn down a corridor. “Okay Gopher, we
have some work to do too.”</div>
<div style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<div style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
…</div>
<div style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<div style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
When Jay and the
rovers reached the access ladder he suddenly wondered if these rovers
could climb, then he remembered how agile they were. They had no
problem climbing the ladder to the deck with the enormous hatch.</div>
<div style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<div style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
“Signals.” he
called number six, the one with the scanner and jammer “Can you
open that hatch? I mean, I order you to open the hatch.”</div>
<div style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<div style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
The robot pointed
itself at the hatch and Jay could hear it send radio frequencies
going from low to high and back again. Then hatch clicked.</div>
<div style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<div style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
“Attention!” he
said and all the robots were suddenly prepared to do combat. The
hatch had unlocked but it did not open automatically “Number One,
open the hatch”. The rover put its back legs against the frame of
pushed the huge hatch open several feet and then walked back to its
position.</div>
<div style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<div style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
Jay Johnson expected
something to burst out of the doors but it was quiet. He took a
sensor ball from his pocket, another device manufactured by the ship
and threw it into the opening in the hatch. He looked at a small
screen on his wrist device.</div>
<div style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<div style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
It was dark inside.
He saw some shadows, that looked like boxes and crates or furniture.
Of course everything he saw was much larger than it should have been.
Whatever that huge thing was it was hiding in the shadows. So instead
of it being the one to charge Jay, he and the rovers would have to do
the charging.</div>
<div style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<div style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
“Okay, go in and
spread out, spotlights on.” he told the rovers and they immediately
jumped to follow his commands and he followed them in, with his
weapon at the ready. He climbed into the hatch and dropped to one
knee once he was inside, he scanned back and forth with the gun. The
spotlights of the rovers were not as bright or as effective as he had
hoped.</div>
<div style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<div style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
“This place really
is huge.” he said, knowing the computer had probably already
started scanning and mapping it. One of the rovers made a noise and
the others all turned in the same direction, so Jay followed them
through the gun sight.</div>
<div style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<div style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
Suddenly something
in the shadows rose up and up. It was probably even taller than they
had first thought, and it was most definitely some type of robot. The
lights showed its legs, its torso, some of the long arms and large
claw-hands.
</div>
<div style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<div style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
Finally the lights
of the rovers illuminated the top. Jay fell onto his butt and began
backing up toward the hatch door. Up at the place where some sort of
robot head should be was the body of a man, it was connected to the
huge metal frame through where its arms, legs and the top of his head
should be.</div>
<div style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<div style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
Jay felt like he
would throw up. His legs wouldn't work right, he was trying to stand
up so he could get out of there. He was in the doorway of the hatch
when he heard a cackle.</div>
<div style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<div style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
“Run, frightened
mouse, run” its metallic voice said “I am the titan who shall
inherit the Earth, not you puny pathetic humans!”</div>
<div style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<div style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
“Rovers, attack!”
Jay yelled, but he was a bit behind the times. He hadn't seen that
this titan had his own robotic army closing in on them. The rovers
launched their grenades and fired their guns but the other robots
also attacked. A nearby explosion threw Jay completely out of the
chamber and past the open hatch.</div>
<div style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<div style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
“Don't think I'm
not grateful you've let me out of my prison. I'll reward you with a
quick death!” the voice reverberated. Jay told himself this guy or
thing had seen way too many bad movies, but seems to have forgotten
that the bad guys don't win. Usually.</div>
<div style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<div style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
Another explosion at
the hatch as he was climbing the ladder got his attention. The hatch
swung open from the blast and pieces of rovers littered the floor
between him and the hatch. Finally two rovers backed out of the
hatchway firing laser blasts into the chamber. Jay couldn't see much
but he returned some fire too.</div>
<div style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<div style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
Jay began to climb
frantically. Let the rovers slow them down a bit if they could.</div>
<div style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<div style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
“Computer, if
there is a way to separate this part from the rest of the ship, it
would be a great idea to do it now.” he said as he reached the top
of the ladder and began running up the corridor as fast as he could.</div>
<div style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<div style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
“Not possible.”
the computer answered.</div>
GeronLhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13145189615256636055noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5787869099782509690.post-73877889984150377222016-12-26T22:08:00.001-08:002016-12-28T06:41:36.393-08:00Lonely Space - Chapter Eight<br />
See <a href="http://flscifi.blogspot.com/2015/06/lonely-space-chapter-one.html">Chapter One</a><br />
<br />
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<br />
<div style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div align="CENTER" style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<b>Chapter
Eight</b></div>
<div align="CENTER" style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<i>A
Quest</i></div>
<div style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
After they were back
in the small mess hall they had been using for a while Jay Johnson
pulled Tamita close and whispered “Even if we install new computer
cores you said the bad programming might be coming from another part
inside the robots”</div>
<div style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
She nodded.</div>
<div style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
“We might need to
take some of them apart and inspect each piece” he concluded. The
prospect of being electrocuted or torn apart by sabotaged robots was
worth the extra effort to prevent. The main computer had a long-range
6,000 year plan built in to its system, while humans are worried
about more immediate things, such as their own lives.</div>
<div style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
“If that is what
needs to happen to end this mess, then we can do that” she answered
“This ship needs those robots if it is going to have a chance to
make it for 6,000 years”</div>
<div style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
Jay thought about
this. Pretty much every part on every robot would be replaced several
times over before this voyage is ending. He hoped replacing the cores
was the end of it or barring that, finding the part that had been
sabotaged from the design stage.
</div>
<div style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
The main computer
spoke up “I have designed a more efficient computer core for the
Corridor Service Module and it is being built as we speak. Gopher
should have it brought to you within a quarter of an hour.”</div>
<div style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
Jay Johnson was
impressed “redesigned and built in such a short time, that is
impressive'</div>
<div style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
The computer was
silent but Tamita laughed “Please tell me you aren't trying to
charm the computer, I don't think praise is going to compute”</div>
<div style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
As promised Gopher
entered the room carrying a ceramic and metallic-looking all with
grooved edged around it that were obviously meant to fit into a slot.
Jay Johnson picked it up and examined it while the main computer
spoke again.</div>
<div style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
“You will need to
open the top access hatch on the unit, then open a secondary panel
inside of that and replace the computer core. It should be fairly
straight-forward, as these were made for humans to be able to repair
easily” it told them</div>
<div style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
“See” Tamita
said standing up from the table they were sitting at “Sounds
condescending but it doesn't mean to be”</div>
<div style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
They returned to the
lift and then walked back toward the bridge, all of the service
module robots were still where they had been stopped previously. The
one closest to where they had come from was the one Jay Johnson had
named Goth. Corridor Service Module G-27.</div>
<div style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
“Looks like a
silver and black refrigerator lying on its back, doesn't it?” Jay
asked jokingly.</div>
<div style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
He climbed on top
while she leaned over from the side. The access port was easy to
open, being no real reason to make them otherwise. Jay Johnson laid
on his stomach to get a close look at the inside, he could see where
the secondary hatch was inside but there were things in the way. So
he took the chance to hold the wires and stuff to the side with one
hand and open the hatch with the other.</div>
<div style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
There was a white
and silver ball, looking only a little different from the one printed
up by the ships computer. He reached down and pulled, it came up out
of its slot quite easily. He put it aside and Tamita handed them the
replacement. He dropped it and it slide into the slot, a tap of a
finger made sure it was embedded snugly.</div>
<div style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
“That was easy”
he said, sitting up and closing the top hatch.</div>
<div style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
The computer spoke
up through Gopher who was a few feet away “I will have this unit
push the others out of the way and then fix some of the damage that
was caused. If you want to be out of the way during this operation
you might want to leave the area now”</div>
<div style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
Tamita and Jay
Johnson walked back to the lift and he leaned close to her and
whispered “Did you feel the urgency to the computer wanting to fix
the damage? We're in the middle of nowhere, most systems are
automated, what did the computer not tell us?”</div>
<div style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
The computer
monitored the module called “Goth” by the humans as it
reconnected and rewired the connections to the bridge. Some of the
first connections to be reconnected were the least important, but it
was progress, those needed done before the main trunk line could be
fixed. There were thousands of computers on the ship but losing
access to the bridge hindered some of its operations.</div>
<div style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
A lot of exterior
sensors were directly wired to bridge computers, thus the computer
had only partial data about what was happening outside the ship. This
could leave the mission in danger, there were occasional meteors and
comets even this far out into the heliopause. To the computer sensor
darkness, not knowing where danger might be, was unsettling.</div>
<div style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
Tamita and Jay
Johnson entered Biological Habitat 2, one of the smaller ones, so
they could try to get a little privacy.</div>
<div style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
“This ship is so
big that I haven't seen most of it” he told her “I have no idea
where the passengers are being stored. I guess I could figure that
out though, but there is so much else I haven't seen”</div>
<div style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
She nodded “What
else is there?”</div>
<div style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
He took a fallen
twig and found a dirt area without grass and sat next to it. He drew
a rectangle “We have only been to about this much”</div>
<div style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
He filled in what he
thought was right and they were surprised. Even after spending
several years living and exploring Jay Johnson had been to less than
ten percent of the volume of the ship. “I reckon a lot of this side
of the ship is fuel that we took on from Jupiter” he filled in the
back quarter of the ship. “I bet much of the center is the storage
for the passengers” he filled in another quarter.</div>
<div style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
“The manufacturing
and the stuff they make things out of must take up some space, but I
bet there is enough air and water to take up a quarter of the ship
too” Tamita added.</div>
<div style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
“That still leaves
a good fifteen percent of the ship that is totally unknown to us”
Jay Johnson said “I know the computer doesn't tell us everything.
It took close to four years before I ever saw a corridor service
module! The computer had never mentioned them to me before I ran into
Goth while jogging”</div>
<div style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
“What would the
computer do if we asked to see the other fifteen percent of the
ship?” Tamita asked, curiously.</div>
<div style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
Jay Johnson
shrugged. “That probably depends on what is there, I guess”</div>
<div style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
“So, we just go
and look without asking then” She said with a grin “We're adults,
we don't need to do what daddy computer says”</div>
<div style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
When they left the
biological habitat they were holding hands and Tamita was leaning
against Jay a little, despite not being physically handicapped. The
computer noted this, it believed that the two humans were at least
very good friends now. Watching them would teach it a lot about the
stages of human bonding and its files on this were growing.</div>
<div style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
When Gopher
approached them they let their hands fall to their sides. This was
curious, was their friendship supposed to be a secret? At such as
early stage in a relationship was it not secure enough to show
others? There was much to learn, but 6,000 years was a long time.</div>
<div style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
“The service
module is operating as expected. It is repairing the wiring and
tubing to the bridge, fixing its connection to the rest of the ship!”
Gopher reported to the humans “The computer has begun manufacturing
enough replacement computer cores for all of the corridor service
modules”</div>
<div style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
“How many of them
are there?” Tamita asked</div>
<div style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
“The original plan
call for there to be two hundred and forty of them, but this was an
inefficient use of resources. Instead we have forty” Gopher told
them.</div>
<div style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
“That is still a
lot” she said looking doubtful.</div>
<div style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
Jay shook his head
“If they are all as easy to replace as on Goth, then it won't take
too long I guess, besides it means traveling to parts of the ship we
haven't seen yet”</div>
<div style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
“Oh, right”
Tamita said putting on a fake smile and laughing nervously to the
little robot “Good point, humans like seeing new things”</div>
<div style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
The little robot
then chirped “Okay, I'll go get the next batch of replacement
computer cores right now!”</div>
<div style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
Then it was gone.</div>
<div style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
“Chippy little
thing, isn't she?” Tamita asked</div>
<div style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
“She?” Jay
asked, frowning “I never assigned any gender to the robot before.”</div>
<div style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
“Gopher just seems
like a 'she' to me”</div>
<div style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
“I always thought
Gopher was like a child” Jay asked “Or is that kind of the same
thing?”</div>
<div style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
“You better start
running!” she said with an evil smile. Then they laughed and ran
all the way toward where the service robots were still cluttering the
area near the bridge. Instead they were all lined up neatly, leaving
room for the humans to maneuver their way through.</div>
<div style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
“That makes things
easier, thanks Goth” Jay told the robot that totally ignored him,
as it always did since they were not made to interact with humans. “I
guess we'll get these first before having to travel to get the rest
of them” he said.</div>
<div style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
“Let me do some of
them” Tamita asked “Unless you think this is far too dangerous”</div>
<div style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
He laughed “It's
like changing a light bulb, I think you can handle it, little lady”</div>
<div style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
She shook her head
“You should at least attempt a John Wayne drawl when you say that”</div>
<div style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
“I'm terrible at
impersonations”</div>
<div style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
They finished
installing the new cores to the service modules outside of the bridge
in little time and then began moving from section to section and deck
to deck where Gopher told them others were located. Replacing the
cores was easy, the traveling took longer and they mostly used lifts
instead of walking.</div>
<div style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
Then Jay Johnson
stopped, the door-frame here looked different, bigger, the frame was
red too and entered a strange looking chamber. The chamber had a tall
ceiling and was dominated by a silver cylinder at the center.</div>
<div style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
Tamita entered after
noticing he wasn't with her and going back.</div>
<div style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
“What is this
place?” Tamita asked in a quiet voice.</div>
<div style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
“I don't know”
he said “Look how big those tubes to the cylinder are. It could be
part of some kind of cooling system”. Tubes entered from the floor
and ceiling connecting to the cylinder.</div>
<div style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
“No labels or
signs at all” Tamita said walking around the vast cylinder “Not
even a warning sign”</div>
<div style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
Jay Johnson was
thinking hard. “I know the water and air storage sites are a
thousand or more times this size. I guess it could be part of a
filtration system but this is kind of weird”</div>
<div style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
Tamita shook her
head “Don't you think this could be part of the cryogenic
suspension system?”</div>
<div style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
Jay looked around
for Gopher, it was hanging out in the corridor looking into the
chamber through the open doorway. He wondered why the computer or
Gopher hadn't answered any of the questions they had spoken out loud.
</div>
<div style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
“Gopher what is
this chamber for?” he asked walking toward the robot “What does
that do?”</div>
<div style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
Gopher backed up a
few feet.</div>
<div style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
“I do not know. My
map of this area is incomplete” it said</div>
<div style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
Then the main
computer spoke up “As you get closer to the front of the vessel
there are bigger and bigger blind spots for my maps. I assume that
the construction was becoming rushed because of the launch deadline”</div>
<div style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
How could they leave
parts of the ship outside the control of the computer? It didn't seem
to make much sense.</div>
<div style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
“Was there any
last minute adjustments or additions?” Jay asked</div>
<div style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
The computer
answered “There were many small last minute adjustments, mostly
minor changes but there was one major addition. Part of the forward
section of the vessel, which is a large blind spot”</div>
<div style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
“Me and Tamita can
go and check that out” Jay Johnson told the computer. After
thinking the computer was hiding something from them this was even
more worrisome.</div>
<div style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
Gopher disappeared
again. The computer answered “I will leave that up to you. If you
do insist on exploring the unknown parts of the ship you should take
certain tools with you. It will keep you in contact with me”</div>
<div style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
When Gopher returned
it handed them small wristbands, then said “I also cannot access
the dark parts of the ship”.</div>
<div style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
Jay looked at
Tamita, he was starting to have second thoughts about this.</div>
<div style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
The main computer
spoke again “Scan the dark areas of the vessel as you explore and I
will be able to add it to my internal memories and the main map of
the ship”</div>
<div style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
Gopher accompanied
them for a while. Then the entire look of the vessel changed. The
rail that Gopher hung down from did not extend any further. There was
less lighting, the metal bulkheads were darker, as if the metal were
not as refined as the rest of the ship.</div>
<div style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
“Everything looks
different” Tamita said “I guess they really did add it at the
last minute”</div>
<div style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
“This project took
a long time, 'last minute' was probably a matter of months” Jay
guessed looking around and moving the wristband like it was a
flashlight. When they came to the first hatches Jay was almost
surprised that they refused to open. He punched in the code for door
access but got a red light in return.</div>
<div style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
“This is
different” Jay said “I wonder how many of these will open for
us?”</div>
<div style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
Not many, he decided
after the next set of hatches refused to budge, So they continued to
walk until they came to a T-section. “Looks like we might have
reached the front of the ship” Tamita said.</div>
<div style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
The voice of the
main computer came from their wrist devices, but it sounded tinny
“Most likely, there is only about 4 meters between this corridor
and the outside of the vessel. I believe it is made up of triple
hull. There are other decks to check”<br />
<br />
<br />
<a href="http://flscifi.blogspot.com/2016/12/lonely-space-chapter-nine.html">Chapter Nine </a></div>
GeronLhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13145189615256636055noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5787869099782509690.post-37248569840742716262016-12-22T11:24:00.001-08:002016-12-22T11:24:09.270-08:00Free at last... Finally free again at Amazon. I am not sure why they were repriced to 99 cents in the first place since they are free at Google and Smashwords. <br />
<br />
<br />
<a href="https://www.amazon.com/8-Short-Stories-Floyd-Looney-ebook/dp/B00Y016B12/ref=asap_bc?ie=UTF8">8 Short Stories</a><br />
<a href="https://www.amazon.com/10-More-Stories-Floyd-Looney-ebook/dp/B019C2S6NO/ref=asap_bc?ie=UTF8">10 More Stories</a><br />
<a href="https://www.amazon.com/Dragon-Torik-Floyd-Looney-ebook/dp/B018CEQHDE/ref=asap_bc?ie=UTF8">Dragon of Torik</a><br />
<a href="https://www.amazon.com/Reward-Stolen-Planet-Floyd-Looney-ebook/dp/B011CTV3MQ/ref=asap_bc?ie=UTF8">Reward: Stolen Planet</a>GeronLhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13145189615256636055noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5787869099782509690.post-87734891118161292322016-12-15T22:25:00.001-08:002016-12-15T22:25:15.972-08:00Character Intro & Setting<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
Stanley opened the file cabinet and thumbed through the contents to find
the right spot to slide the folder into place. With it he closes his
briefcase. It was this thing about his job that brought him
satisfaction, putting things where they belonged. <br /><br />Stanley is a
short bespectacled man with thinning hair. He wears a crisp white button
up shirt and a bow tie. The bow tie is not an affectation or a sign of
character, it was just that a dangling tie could get caught up in a
drawer or one of the machines he was in charge of when necessary.
Stanley wouldn't hear of going without a tie at all, though; shudder the
thought.<br /><br />In fact not only is Stanley of the most white-bread,
vanilla personage, he utterly lacks ambition and imagination. If he were
the King of the Vikings, they'd never have invaded the English isles or
discovered Nova Scotia. He is made of such stuff that abusing his
power, even to retain the throne, would be unthinkable.<br /><br />This made
Stanley the perfect figure to keep order in the Universal Exchange that
links and keeps track of pretty much everything that happens
everywhere, all the time. A person with imagination or ambition would
use such a position to, perish the thought, change things. Play God or
at least play favorites and enrich themselves.<br /><br />The filing cabinet
was just one of trillions that Stanley is responsible for. Also he has
been responsible for them for as long as he could remember. Not that it
mattered. It could have been decades or centuries or epochs, but time
didn't exist in this place as it did elsewhere.<br /><br />A distant alarm
sounded, sort of like the bugle of war but very far away. Stanley checks
the readings on his holographic wrist computer. <br /><br />“Oh wow, this
is out of place!” Stanley utters to himself. Things being “out of place”
is one of the worst possible things in his mind, the other was being
“out of time”. Space and time are like longitude and latitude on a
planet, they are like coordinates for the universe.<br /><br />Quickly
Stanley moves toward his waiting conveyance, which resembles a 1929 Ford
Roadster convertible with the top down. “Sagittarius Majoris,” he
intones to the vehicle, “2123832-1232”. This completes the coordinates
and the vehicle takes off toward that sector. Although the vehicle was
moving fast enough that everything else became a blur, it still took a
good minute to reach the desired place and time index.<br /><br />Stanley
exits the vehicle and runs up the path between two tall rows of filing
cabinets and assorted other things, as he turns a corner he spots the
disturbance. Meanwhile the details of the incident appear within his
briefcase, but Stanley paused long enough to take in the sight.<br /><br />The
creature was nine feet tall, humanoid, except that it's head was six
heads all meeting at the center where they shared a mouth. Six noses and
twelve eyes and six bushy heads of hair that sort of gave the
impression of some bad artistic impression of a flower. This was a
Sagitarian. A very confused and lost Sagitarian who was in a mild state
of shock, unfortunately he wasn't the only one.<br /><br />Stanley walked
purposefully toward the creature and waving the file he had retrieved
from his briefcase. “It says here that some sort of anomaly whisked you
away from Sagittarius Majoris and deposited you into the closet of one
Maylilin Disli of the planet they call Aslastia. The poor child was
frightened out of her wits and nearly fell into a coma by getting a
glimpse of you.”<br /><br />The large Sagitarian responded, but it was short.<br /><br />“Yes,
yes, you've never seen a three-eyed being before and it's not your
fault that you were there. The problem is that the anomaly must be
hanging around your planet, possibly in some kind of orbit. It must be
studied and rendered pacified,” Stanley tried to explain.<br /><em><br />Obviously
Sagitarians won't do it, being beastly and stupid. You would think
they'd be more intelligent with six brains. All that wasted potential
just waiting for evolution.</em><br /><br />The creature responded again.<br /><br />“About
that, yes come with me. I'll get you back home to your...” Stanley
checks the file, walking back toward the vehicle with a confused
creature following him, “Two wives and seven children. I can't believe
you can afford to support them on your waste retrieval salary.”<br /><br />The creature responded.<br /><br />“Oh, I see, you make them work and support you.”<br /><br />The creature climbed into the passenger seat of the Roadster as Stanley got in on the opposite side. <br /><br />“I'll
have you back in your time and place in no time,” he assured the
Sagitarian who was starting to become more animated as the shock of his
circumstances wore off. They arrived at a large column-like fixture with
a large transparent door.<br /><br />“Just step through the door and you'll be home.”<br /><br />The Sagitarian walked around the column and sniffed the doorway suspiciously.<br /><br />Stanley
checked the readings on his holographic wrist computer, “It's perfectly
safe, I've used it often enough to send wayward beings back to where
and when they belonged. All you need to do is step inside and you will
be home again.”<br /><br />Twelve eyes became suspicious slits for a moment
but the creature sighed through its mouth and stepped inside and made a
noise. The door slid shut again. The Sagitarian decided to panic, all twelve eyes wide open as it pounded on the door whining loudly.<br /><br />“Well, no, I didn't say it was painless. It's not <em>completely</em>
painless,” Stanley explained as he hit the ENACT key and began walking
back to the vehicle without even looking back and the creature was
sucked upward with the sound of a pneumatic tube before a bright light
erupted for a second and his atoms were separated and then compressed
before being shoved through a singularity set toward his appointed time
and place.<br /><br />The Sagitarian had been properly filed back to his own time and place, where he belonged.<br />
<br />
----- GeronLhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13145189615256636055noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5787869099782509690.post-82195968479381269152016-11-26T23:49:00.001-08:002016-11-26T23:49:07.818-08:00Rough Draft Story Beginning<span style="color: red;">I've been depressed and too busy working to get much writing done. I hope to get back in the habit ASAP.</span><br />
<br />
<br />
<h3>
<b>The Trials</b></h3>
<br />
<style type="text/css">P { margin-bottom: 0.08in; }</style>
<br />
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
The child was clothed in rags that
barely held on to the skinny frame, her arms and legs were
pock-marked with bloody sores and sunburn. Her stringy hair was not
tied behind her head in the traditional knot. The child crawled into
the chamber of the High One, leaving thin trails of blood behind her.</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
“Master!” The girl called out,
between sobs, “We got lost in the sandstorm. I was the only one who
managed to escape... my mother was to be the token (sob), but I now
hold the amulet.”</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
Indeed this pathetic child possessed
the Toko Amuleta in her tight fist, her shaky arm raised to show the
precious thing to the man in the high seat.</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
“What has happened that a Token has
been offered me this day<span style="font-family: Liberation Serif, serif;">?</span><span style="font-family: Liberation Serif, serif;">”
The man finally spoke, as if he had not noticed her presence before.</span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
“<span style="font-family: Liberation Serif, serif;">The
Sordes have taken village after village. My tribe has become nearly
extinct, Master. We have no champion strong enough to send to the
trials. The enemy has the advantage of us. We need your intervention,
Master, please help us!” The girl who could barely lift her head up
pleaded.</span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-family: Liberation Serif, serif;">The
old man nodded but frowned, “I understand. Our species is war-like.
No matter how much we think we desire peace, it remains elusive. The
Trials were created as an alternative to wholesale slaughters of the
past, but it has become corrupted. The Sordes are much more powerful
than your Doro tribe. They issue challenge after challenge and take
village after village, because none of the other tribes are brave
enough to object.”</span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-family: Liberation Serif, serif;">The
girl nodded.</span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-family: Liberation Serif, serif;">The
man sighed and said, “As for your tribe being unable to bring a
worthy champion to meet these challenges, I must disagree.”</span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
The girl was confused, “Master, I do
not understand. My people are few and weak.”</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
The old man grinned, “There is one
worthy Champion among them, child. You.”</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
She shook her head, “But I have
offered myself as Token, Master, I am no longer a Doro, from now I am
your property.”</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
“There is a precedent, it is long and
complicated. I reject your offer of Tokenis. I will intervene to halt
the challenges of the Sordes for the permitted interval. In the
interim, you must be made healthy and trained for the Trials to come.
You are the only hope for your tribe, child. This is the only answer
I can give to the plea.”</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
The girl sat on the smooth rock floor
of the torch-lit chamber quietly for a long moment. The High One
raised the hood over his head but waited patiently for her answer.</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
“I accept, High One.” she said, it
was barely more than a whisper.</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
“What is your name, Champion of the
Doro<span style="font-family: Liberation Serif, serif;">?”</span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
“I am called Cami, High One.”</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
“Champion Cami, you will be fed and
rested tonight and you will be taken to a facility to start your
training tomorrow. I will leave immediately to inform the Council of
Sena of my intervention. They will not be happy, but it is within my
legitimate power.” The man answered, as Cami became aware of four
people entering the chamber.</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
“These are my faithful, once upon a
time they too were offered as Tokens. They will help you.”</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
…</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
The High One sat in his appointed seat
in the outdoor meeting site of the Sena. The representatives of
Sordes were easy to find, they were jovial and mocking while the
officials of the other tribes were quiet and stoic.</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
“Another day, another challenge!”
The Sordes representative, Bolo Sendo, announced as he stepped to the
floor to the cheers and laughs of his fellows.</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
The High One raised a hand, “There is
an intervention.”</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
The Sordes representative tilted his
head, there were already jeers and noises of outrage from the Sordes
fellows “What is it<span style="font-family: Liberation Serif, serif;">?”</span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
“I have invoked the eight section of
the Law of the Champion. The Doro will be given time to develop their
new champion, who is a child at present.” the High One announced.</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
“A child<span style="font-family: Liberation Serif, serif;">?
How long are we expected to wait for this champion to be weaned and
potty trained?” Bolo Sendo asked.</span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
“<span style="font-family: Liberation Serif, serif;">For
the full term.”</span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-family: Liberation Serif, serif;">Shouts
and jeers from the Sordes supporters rained down. The Sena of the
other tribes were quiet but were whispering amongst themselves. Some
of them seemed fearful that their tribe might be targeted by the
Sordes now that the Doro had been given protection.</span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
“<span style="font-family: Liberation Serif, serif;">This
is outrageous, High One. Do not expect the support of Sordes at the
next Sortition,” Bolo Sendo said with bitterness as he returned to
his seat.</span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-family: Liberation Serif, serif;">The
Presider of the Sena finally interjected himself, “What is the
meaning of this intervention, High One?”</span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
“<span style="font-family: Liberation Serif, serif;">The
meaning is not occluded, Presider,” The old man replied as he began
walking down onto the floor of the Sena. “I see the situation as
clear as anyone. The Trials have become corrupted.”</span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-family: Liberation Serif, serif;">The
members of the Sena made their disagreement known by saying “Non,
non!” and pounding the floor once with their foot.</span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
“<span style="font-family: Liberation Serif, serif;">I
see the members of the Sena, so quiet when the Sordes abuse the
Trials, have found their voices to oppose my intervention. You are
all scared to oppose the challenges issued by the Sordes, lest you
lose your far-flung villages to their wrath. Have you so little faith
in your Champions?” The High One asked them, looking at each in the
eye as he walked past.</span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-family: Liberation Serif, serif;">'Non,
Non!' stomp, stomp</span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-family: Liberation Serif, serif;">He
nodded, “I see very clearly, Presider, that the situation has
become untenable. The Trials were never meant to be used as a way for
one tribe to conquer and annihilate another. The Trials were supposed
to stop that very thing from happening. Only the acquiescence of the
frightened and cowed members of the Sena have made that possible.”</span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-family: Liberation Serif, serif;">'Non!
Non!” stomp, stomp</span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
“<span style="font-family: Liberation Serif, serif;">Have
you gone too far, High One?” The Presider asked, “Your own
position could be imperiled by these words you speak.”</span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
“<span style="font-family: Liberation Serif, serif;">In
any case, Presider, the intervention stays. My impeachment or death
does not repeal the order, it is inviolable,” the High One
explained, “This is the law we have lived under for centuries, most
of that time in peace. That peace has been threatened by aggression,
but it is the scared who feed the peace to the beast, hoping it
becomes sated before they become the next victim.”</span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-family: Liberation Serif, serif;">'Non,
Non!” stomp, stomp</span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
GeronLhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13145189615256636055noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5787869099782509690.post-67601932511185632412016-08-30T00:02:00.003-07:002016-08-30T00:02:50.234-07:00Sirius Orphanage - Chapter Two (rough draft - test)<span style="color: red;">I'm thinking every other chapter could be a flashback or something, sort of end up with two related stories.</span><br />
<br />
<br />
<div style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: center;">
<b>Chapter Two</b></div>
<div style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: center;">
<i>An Earlier Time</i></div>
<div style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<div style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<div style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
Jenai loved to get
up early and see the stars, for they shined only briefly between dark
rise and light fall every morning. Sometimes the large orange
circular behemoth would make an appearance and occasionally the
spider galaxy could be seen fully with all of those spindly legs.</div>
<div style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<div style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
It was a strange
morning that she found Assistant Caretaker Chub wandering the dark
corridors while mumbling to himself. She could not make out what he
was saying to himself but since he seemed to be on some mission she
decided to follow him.</div>
<div style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<div style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
Jenai was careful
not to make a sound. She knew that if he did not look directly at her
and focus, Chub would not be able to see her. It was her special
talent, to be able to go unnoticed. Most of the children in the
facility had some sort of talent. It was suspected the others did
too, they just hadn’t been figured out yet.</div>
<div style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<div style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
Children were not
allowed down in these levels but Jenai liked to explore them. She had
found an entire library of undecipherable books once, unfortunately
she was never able to locate it again. Jenai was sure that Alabaster
could have deciphered the language, it was his special talent. It was
a mystery that may never be solved.</div>
<div style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<div style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
Jenai watched as
part of a wall became a shiny metal door and Chub pulled out of chain
of keys and carefully selected one of them. The doors swung open and
he entered, Jenai moved closer as the doors shut. Fortunately one of
them hadn’t closed all the way and she peered inside.</div>
<div style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<div style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
The room seemed
mostly empty and dark. She could see the shadow of the Assistant
Caretaker moving around inside but it was murky. Suddenly a large
circular spot on the floor lit up a brilliant blue and the room could
be seen. Whatever it was, it was the sole purpose of the room.</div>
<div style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<div style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
She saw Chub walk to
the edge of the blue pool and drop something inside. Then the chubby
young man with the dumb face seemed to wait. Then something emerged
from the pool and into the air where it was snatched by his hands. As
far as Jenai could determine this was some kind of message-sending
device.</div>
<div style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<div style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
Why not just use the
hyper like everyone else?</div>
<div style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<div style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
The blue light
vanished and a solid floor reappeared as the room became dark once
again. Jenai moved away to a corner in the corridor as the Assistant
Caretaker locked the door and walked away, when he was gone she
looked back and there was just wall there once again.</div>
<div style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<div style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
It was a mystery and
Jenai liked mysteries. She made a note to tell her friend Craig all
about this when they met at the water tanks later. In the meantime
she was supposed to hurry or she’d be late to Secondary
Mathtistics.</div>
<div style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<div style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
…</div>
<div style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<div style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
Craig listened to
her story without interrupting. His face had broken out in a smile as
the thought of solving a new mystery beckoned.</div>
<div style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<div style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
“Some kind of
communications? It does sound that way, but what if it was something
else? Maybe it was a trade?” Craig asked, “I wonder where the
other side went? Can people cross over?”</div>
<div style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<div style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
Jenai hadn’t
thought of that.</div>
<div style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<div style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
“That sounds
extremely dangerous, sending people through some kind of portal,”
she said, “When Chub arrived to help old man Martin, he came by
ship. If people could cross through with the portal, wouldn’t it be
faster and easier?”</div>
<div style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<div style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
Craig nodded,
“You’re right about that. Traveling by ship would be a waste if
the portal could be used to travel.”</div>
<div style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<div style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
“I guess that’s
why it’s a mystery.”</div>
<div style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<div style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
He smiled, “Tell
nobody else about this. Not until we’re finished finding out the
secret.”</div>
<div style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<div style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
Jenai nodded, she
was pleased. She liked solving mysteries, especially with Craig. She
liked Craig.</div>
<div style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<div style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
…</div>
<div style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<div style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
That night, at a
predetermined time, Jenai and Craig slipped out of their beds in
their respective dorms and met near the main water tanks. The cool
air was moving and it felt like standing in front of a cooling vent.
There were no stars of course, no matter how one strained looking
down off the platforms.</div>
<div style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<div style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
“How do you reckon
we can get inside the room?” she asked.</div>
<div style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<div style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
He smiled, “I know
a trick. I’ve seen one of those before. It’s sort of like your
talent, if you look at it and focus you’ll see the lever that makes
it visible,” Craig explained. Then he shrugged, “I have no idea
how it does that, but they do exist.”</div>
<div style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<div style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
Jenai was surprised
he had figured that out just from her description, “We’ll get
this all done too quick at that rate, Craig, slow down.”</div>
<div style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<div style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
He laughed, then he
told her “Let’s go have a look, it’s getting cold out here.”</div>
<div style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<div style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
Once inside they
descended until coming to the darker sections of the orphanage. They
nodded toward each other after looking around, not wanting to be
caught. Jenai led him deeper into the level and paused to consider
the path.</div>
<div style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<div style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
“Are you lost?”
Craig asked.</div>
<div style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<div style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
She scoffed, “Of
course not.”</div>
<div style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<div style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
He shrugged, “You
never found that library a second time.”</div>
<div style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<div style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
Jenai rolled her
eyes, would everyone always bring that up?</div>
<div style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<div style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
Then something
looked familiar and she strode toward it, Craig followed. This was
the right place but the door was already open and there were shadowy
figures in the room again. Craig pulled her aside and into a recessed
area of the corridor.</div>
<div style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<div style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
“We cannot get
caught!” Craig whispered, she nodded only feeling thrilled that his
mouth was right next to her ear as they huddled.</div>
<div style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<div style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
“I hear someone
talking, quiet,” she said.</div>
<div style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<div style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
It was old man
Martin, the Caretaker, he was talking to someone.</div>
<div style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<div style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
“I realize the
severity of the situation. I only ask that you consider this facility
neutral, we are not your enemy here,” the old man said. His shadow
was next to a smaller one that flickered across the wall of the tiny
portion of the room they could see.</div>
<div style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<div style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
They heard no
response but soon the Caretaker spoke again, “I am sure adequate
safeguards can be agreed upon, we can present all the proof you’d
like. This is a fully civilian facility, after all, I can guarantee
we are no threat to your society.”</div>
<div style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<div style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
The response they
heard was a distinct growl. Craig and Jenai looked at each other,
both wondering what kind of secret they had stumbled upon. Both
wondering if they would get caught.</div>
<div style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<div style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
“The children,
yes, they must stay in their beds, I understand,” the Caretaker
answered, “I think it a bit extreme that you would punish them so
harshly though.”</div>
<div style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<div style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
A whiny, even
threatening growl.</div>
<div style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<div style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
“If the term is
not negotiable, I will skip on to the next. I’m not sure what you
mean about a portal incidence, I assure you we would never use them
against your people. We are all civilians here...” then he shut up
as the other voice growled a response, “Yes, yes. I don’t
understand how such a modification would work, but if you say it is
real… I am not arguing with you. I would never dream, after all we
are guests on your planet.”</div>
<div style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<div style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
Craigs’ eyes were
huge saucers, his breathing quickened. This made Jenai more
frightened as well.</div>
<div style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<div style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
“If that is the
term we must operate by, then we shall do so. Goodnight,” Martin
said and they watched the smaller shadow move and grow bigger as it
approached the glowing blue pool on the floor. For a brief moment
they saw what had thrown the shadow. The four-legged alien was
covered in an outer exoskelton, almost dog-like.</div>
<div style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<div style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
Martin locked the
door and it became wall again and then the old man paused and looked
around before walking away. Jenai and Craig breathed again, relieved
to not have been spotted.</div>
<div style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<div style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
“What was that?”
Jenai asked.</div>
<div style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<div style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
“Diplomacy,”
Craig answered, “I don’t think it’s good news, but the
Caretaker seems to think whatever the terms were are the best we can
get.”</div>
GeronLhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13145189615256636055noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5787869099782509690.post-53421018536065208482016-08-28T11:00:00.001-07:002016-08-28T11:00:32.423-07:00Sirius Orphanage - Chapter One - (test)
<div align="center" style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<b>Sirius
Orphanage</b></div>
<div style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<div align="center" style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<i>Chapter
One – Dark Rise</i></div>
<div style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<div style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<div style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
The boy was outside
of the window, looking down from the ledge. A rope was all that held
him in place, but he could not see the bottom below. Darkness had
already fallen down there.</div>
<div style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<div style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
“Ottie, see
anything?” Another boy from inside the building asked.</div>
<div style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<div style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
“No. Too dark down
there,” he responded and pulled himself back up to the ledge with a
flick of the wrist and then he was standing on the ledge and he rope
disappeared up a sleeve. Ottie was just a normal-looking boy in light
blue pajamas again as he climbed through the window.</div>
<div style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<div style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
“Then we have less
than a kilomin before it’s bedtime and lights out,” an older
blonde-haired boy said who the others looked toward and nodded, “That
means if anyone is on deck, or exploring below or out by the water
tower meeting a girl, they need to start back before the stalkers
appear.”</div>
<div style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<div style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
Another older boy
with close-cropped dark hair looked around the common area and
crossed his arms, “I don’t see Danny or Maxwell. These kids...”</div>
<div style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<div style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
“Danny was one
deck below,” a younger boy with a smart-alec sneer, “I think he
said he was playing with a stalker pup.”</div>
<div style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<div style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
The boys groaned and
shook their heads. Imaginary pets were against their code because it
might make one more sympathetic to the stalkers. The oldest boy
looked around and chose one of the younger boys, “Sam, go and find
Danny and drag him back before bedtime.”</div>
<div style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<div style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
The boy nodded and
took off through the far exit of the room.</div>
<div style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<div style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
“Now, does anyone
know where Maxwell is?”</div>
<div style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<div style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
…</div>
<div style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<div style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
The boy was sitting
on the edge of the platform swinging his legs above the abyss far
below as if he had no worries at all. Across a space too large to
jump was a similar platform, both built around very large metal
tanks. A girl, also in pajamas, was sitting on the edge of that one.</div>
<div style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<div style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
“How long do you
think we’ll be here?” she asked.</div>
<div style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<div style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
“Forever
probably,” the boy answered.</div>
<div style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<div style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
She scrunched up her
face, “Maybe we’ll be adopted someday.”</div>
<div style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<div style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
The boy looked
doubtful and frowned, “When’s the last time anyone was adopted
from here? Do you remember the last time anyone even visited?”</div>
<div style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<div style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
She thought and
shook her head, “I don’t remember very far back.”</div>
<div style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<div style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
The boy nodded, he
had already figured out that nobody could remember farther back than
a few solar cycles. It had been his private hobby to investigate
this, it was a slow process and had become a secondary thing since he
had met Loria.
</div>
<div style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<div style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
“Do you want to
come over here?” he asked her.</div>
<div style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<div style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
She smiled but shook
her head, “It’s getting late, Max, and if I go over I might not
be able to make myself come back to this side.”</div>
<div style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<div style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
Suddenly another boy
was standing next to Maxwell. Max looked up to see Ottie there
holding a rope that was dancing in the air such as should have been
impossible.</div>
<div style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<div style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
“You should be
heading back,” the boy said, “Hi, Loria.”</div>
<div style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<div style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
“Oh, hello Ottie,”
the girl said starting to stand up, “I think it’s time to go.
Good night Max, I’ll see next time!”</div>
<div style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<div style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
Maxwell was
disappointed, “Ottie, I know what time it is.”</div>
<div style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<div style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
He got up and looked
into the abyss below to see that the darkness had risen farther than
he had realized. He nodded to Ottie, “Are you ever going to teach
anyone else how to do rope magic?”</div>
<div style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<div style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
Ottie looked
offended, “It’s my thing, find your own.”</div>
<div style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<div style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
Maxwell laughed as
they started moving from one platform to another back toward the main
boys building past the water tanks. Then they froze when they looked
back and saw a grayish creature on the top of the one they had just
passed.</div>
<div style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<div style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
“It’s too early
for a stalker!” Maxwell said.</div>
<div style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<div style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
“It’s not
messing with us, though. Not until darkness rises,” Ottie pointed
out.</div>
<div style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<div style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
The wolf-like
creature covered in a grayish exoskeleton paid little mind to them.
It was as if it was enjoying the last bits of light the way someone
might get up really early and look at stars.</div>
<div style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<div style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
“Let’s just
hurry,” Maxwell said. The last part of their journey was a climb of
a few stories back into the building. He looked over to see if Loria
was okay and saw a figure already climbing through a window on that
side.</div>
<div style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<div style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
“Let me do this,
Max. It’s cool,” Ottie said, Max was going to ask what it was but
a rope tightened around his chest and under his arms and both he and
Ottie went airborne all the way to the outside ledge of the proper
floor. Then the rope disappeared again.</div>
<div style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<div style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
“How do you do
that?” Maxwell asked, Ottie just laughed and shrugged.</div>
<div style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<div style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
As they entered the
large bedchamber the other boys were already in their beds and the
light was dimming.
</div>
<div style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<div style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
“Hurry! Get in
your bed!” one of the older boys said.</div>
<div style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<div style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
Ottie and Maxwell
had beds on the far end since they were younger, so they took off
running. The room was getting darker and they could hear the other
boys chatter. It was getting dark faster than normal and hey had
almost been late.</div>
<div style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<div style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
Ottie whimpered and
nearly stumbled. Maxwell looked back to see if he was okay and he
could see a dark spot near the entrance. His stomach knotted.</div>
<div style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<div style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
“Stalker!”
someone yelled and the animal looked in that direction, momentarily
distracted.</div>
<div style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<div style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
Maxwell was near his
own bed and was thinking of helping Ottie but then a rope appeared
from the boys sleeve and he was flying through the air towards his
own bed. Rope magic again. Maxwell hopped onto his own bed and pulled
the covers over himself.</div>
<div style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<div style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
Ottie and everyone
was safe. The stalker would pad around the whole chamber for hours
but there was little for it and its pack to do but patrol. Nobody
would dare get out of bed before the twilight.</div>
<div style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<div style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
The only human that
was safe from the stalkers and other threats was the Caretaker. The
Caretaker was a chubby younger man who walked slow and talked slow as
if he were dim-witted. Max knew the guy was probably smart though, he
just wondered if the man was motivated.</div>
<div style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<div style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
Chub had been the
assistant once upon a time. There had been a much older man, Martin,
with a gray beard who had been in charge for a long time. Something
happened one night, though. As far as Max could gather, a boy and a
girl had been caught out in the dark-rise and the old man Martin and
Chub had tried to save them.</div>
<div style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<div style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
Apparently those two
orphans had entered a mirror gate to escape and were never seen or
heard from again. There were more than stalkers around in those days
and Martin had tried to appease the angry creatures who had lost
their prey. He had somehow slipped and fallen down into the abyss.</div>
<div style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<div style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
Maxwell had tried to
formulate a time-line through all of the events. He could not make it
work. As far as he could tell, the passage of time was not uniform at
the orphanage. It seemed impossible but he once tried to calculate
how long he had been there. It came out to sixteen solar cycles,
which was impossible because he was twelve and he had been dropped
off when he was seven.</div>
<div style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<div style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
If sixteen cycles
had really passed Max figured he would be full-grown by now. He
wasn’t and this was proof that his calculations were wrong. Even if
someone were manipulate time and the clocks, they couldn’t mess
with how fast someone grew, right?</div>
<div style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<div style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
Maxwell had always
listened and made mental notes when the older boys spoke. Over time
he had found that Wendell, the oldest, arrived at age nine. The
second oldest kid, the blonde named Ranger said he had been about
ten. But Ranger had arrived first somehow and nobody seemed to see or
understand the discrepancy.
</div>
<div style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<div style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
Nuggets of
information collected over a long time was suggesting that time was
not linear, and Maxwell could not wrap his mind around it. It was a
puzzle he was unable to solve and he didn’t dare mention it to
anyone else. It was his thing, like Otties’ rope magic.</div>
<div style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<div style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
…</div>
<div style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<div style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
Chub was on the
deck, at the top of the orphanage. He was peering down into a
circular pit that was like a miniature abyss. A black rope tied off
nearby disappeared into its depths. The Caretaker was waiting for
something to emerge. Finally something did.</div>
<div style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<div style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
A black-colored
version of a stalker pulled itself out of the round abyss and stood
there. The Caretaker nodded.
</div>
<div style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<div style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
“Well, Barnabas,
did you detect anything?” Chub asked. In response the creature
whimpered.</div>
<div style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<div style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
The man nodded in a
resigned way, and started pulling the rope back out of the abyss, “I
guess tonight is not the night, then.”</div>
<div style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<div style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
Once the rope was
completely out of the abyss, it disappeared and was once again solid
metal, just another part of the deck. Chub yawned and stretched. The
darkness should be on its way back down soon and the kids would be
awake again. Twilight was always his favorite part of the day, you
could briefly see all of the stars and sometimes the husk would pass
overhead.</div>
<div style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<div style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
Thankfully none of
the kids remembered ever seeing the husk. That would bring forth far
too many questions. Even if they might occasionally steal away to see
the stars, none had so far seen the burned out wreck of space station
that still orbited the abandoned planet.</div>
<div style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<div style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
The only way off
this planet now was through a portal and those were far too
dangerous. Chub could get away with a little occasional exploration
by sending Barnabas through but he shuddered to think about what
would happen if the kids learned of it.</div>
<div style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<div style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
Chub had been
worried when Ottie had found about his rope magic. He had awaited the
rush of kids trying to figure out their own gifts, but none of them
had. It was a relief that most of them was completely disinterested
and continued their routines. The charm had worked to suppress that
normal instinct in humans, that which made a person ask “Why?”</div>
<div style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<div style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
Wendell was nearly
ready to be made Assistant Caretaker. Soon enough he would be taken
off charm and Chub would start showing and telling him about the ways
of this world. Without charm his curiosity would explode of course,
but the answers would anchor him quickly.</div>
<div style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<div style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
Barnabas growled and
looked up at Chub. Chub smiled, “Go home, boy!”</div>
<div style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<div style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
The creature ran off
to join the stalkers and other creatures that fled as the day
returned. Their realm was the darkness. As the creature leaped over
the edge, Chub wondered briefly if it would be back. Except that it
always came back.</div>
<div style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<div style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
The light soon
obscured the stars, their presence between the dark and the light
never lasted very long.</div>
<div style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<div style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
“It’s morning,
time to make a head count and get them breakfast,” Chub said to
himself.</div>
<div style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<div style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
GeronLhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13145189615256636055noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5787869099782509690.post-13842031595005736112016-08-18T23:20:00.000-07:002016-08-18T23:20:12.412-07:00Escape from Free Republic - Chapter Thirteen<br />
<br />
<br />
<div align="center" style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-family: Liberation Serif, serif;"><b>Chapter
Thirteen</b></span></div>
<div style="font-weight: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<div style="font-weight: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-family: Liberation Serif, serif;">With
his hands on his hands Felix grinned at the three Marines guarding
node chamber as he approached. He had dropped his weapons in full
view and now walked toward them as if to surrender himself.</span></div>
<div style="font-weight: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<div style="font-weight: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-family: Liberation Serif, serif;">The
device that would cripple their armored suits was in plain view on
his chest but these Marines didn’t know anything about it. They may
have heard that there was such a device, since it had been used quite
effectively in the battles down on Sync but they wouldn’t be
expecting this.</span></div>
<div style="font-weight: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<div style="font-weight: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-family: Liberation Serif, serif;">In
fact, Felix didn’t even know whether it would work on board the
<i>Umbrage</i>, which had a powerful field to dampen that sort of
thing. Fortunately that field was directed outward rather than
inward.</span></div>
<div style="font-weight: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<div style="font-weight: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;">
“<span style="font-family: Liberation Serif, serif;">Name?”
One of the Marines asked as he approached.</span></div>
<div style="font-weight: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<div style="font-weight: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;">
“<span style="font-family: Liberation Serif, serif;">Felix
Santayana, I was born in Upper Range Province,” he told them,
“Although I’m sure the records of my birth were destroyed in one
of your bombings.”</span></div>
<div style="font-weight: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<div style="font-weight: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-family: Liberation Serif, serif;">Just
another meter or two.</span></div>
<div style="font-weight: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<div style="font-weight: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;">
“<span style="font-family: Liberation Serif, serif;">Tell
me, do your people still carry out show trials before the execution,
or after?” Felix asked, still grinning with his face-plate open.</span></div>
<div style="font-weight: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<div style="font-weight: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;">
“<span style="font-family: Liberation Serif, serif;">Those
who surrender do not get executed,” One of the marines said, “Stop
there and turn around.”</span></div>
<div style="font-weight: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<div style="font-weight: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-family: Liberation Serif, serif;">Felix
stopped, “I suppose it’s hard labor in some asteroid mine for
someone like me.”</span></div>
<div style="font-weight: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<div style="font-weight: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-family: Liberation Serif, serif;">Now!
Felix flexed his left wrist, this was to set off the device.
Immediately his suits instrumentation went haywire, but he heard
thumps as the three marines hit the floor. He turned to see them, the
suits so heavy that they couldn’t really move from inside. The
other rebels came to join him,</span></div>
<div style="font-weight: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<div style="font-weight: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;">
“<span style="font-family: Liberation Serif, serif;">Good
job, Felix,” his commander, the new guy named Tom Grier said. They
took the weapons from the Marines and moved them aside.</span></div>
<div style="font-weight: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<div style="font-weight: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;">
“<span style="font-family: Liberation Serif, serif;">Felix,
check out the node chamber, see if there’s a trap or anything.”
Tom Grier ordered, Felix saluted and exaggerated a march towards the
open chamber. Inside the oval-shaped chamber he saw two large
contraptions that filled the two ends, from ceiling to floor. Felix
could see pipes and ducts along the walls, as more systems than just
gravity and field generators were sent through.</span></div>
<div style="font-weight: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<div style="font-weight: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-family: Liberation Serif, serif;">Felix
was about to send an all-clear message when someone stepped out from
behind the large module at the far end of the chamber. The armored
suit was unfamiliar, it was much too large, as if the torso allowed
one to curl up for naps inside.</span></div>
<div style="font-weight: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<div style="font-weight: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;">
“<span style="font-family: Liberation Serif, serif;">Who…?”
Felix managed to say before a large hole opened up in his chest,
right through the rebel armor he wore. Everything went black rather
quickly.</span></div>
<div style="font-weight: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<div style="font-weight: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-family: Liberation Serif, serif;">Blade
could see the others start to enter the chamber but when they saw the
body they moved to one side of the entrance or the other. One of them
had been wearing the armor of a Marine; Tom Grier. </span>
</div>
<div style="font-weight: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<div style="font-weight: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-family: Liberation Serif, serif;">Tom
Grier was the rebel scum that had destroyed his body. Falling from
the tower had broken his spine, but Blade didn’t let that stop him.
Blade had pulled and pushed with his arms, he had left a trail of
blood and bits of flesh on the ground behind him. By the time he had
been found by the agent named Bolton, he was nearly bled out.</span></div>
<div style="font-weight: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<div style="font-weight: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-family: Liberation Serif, serif;">Thankfully,
Bolton had taken him into the shuttle. Bolton did not ask questions
when Blade demanded to be taken to the Marine Tech ship <i>Dispensation</i>.
The few people on that ship hadn’t wanted to let them open the
hatch but a medical emergency required them to render aid.</span></div>
<div style="font-weight: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<div style="font-weight: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-family: Liberation Serif, serif;">Blade
had known about the prototype suit for months, they had tested him
for it. Using Blade they had made sure that a full-grown Marine would
be comfortable inside it. He had followed orders not to tell anyone,
not even Admiral Robinson about the prototype. It never left his mind
though. His thoughts and dreams had revolved around that armored suit
everyday since.</span></div>
<div style="font-weight: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<div style="font-weight: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-family: Liberation Serif, serif;">He
lay there helpless on the cot for days in the Medical Ward of the
<i>Dispensation </i><span style="font-style: normal;">wondering how
</span>would he get to the suit? Except he had known, deep down, that
he was already connected to the suit. His mind had been the one they
used when programming it for the psych connection. It was to be much
more advanced than the present physical relay. It was.</span></div>
<div style="font-weight: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<div style="font-weight: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-family: Liberation Serif, serif;">The
suit had felt him there. It had called to him and asked for orders.
Blade had even been a little surprised but pleasantly surprised. He
told the suit to come to him and to kill anyone else that it saw
along the way.</span></div>
<div style="font-weight: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<div style="font-weight: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-family: Liberation Serif, serif;">The
screams in the corridor were like church bells, raising his flagging
spirits. The suit appeared in the doorway and then opened itself,
lifting Blade’s broken body and fitting him inside. Blade no longer
needed his own legs, he had better ones. A suit that was more
powerful than any Marine armor, one that was like its own spacecraft
while waiting for the chance to get inside the <i>Umbrage</i>. </span>
</div>
<div style="font-weight: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<div style="font-weight: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-family: Liberation Serif, serif;">It
could have even survived the fall and burn into the atmosphere of the
planet, Sync, below. It was truly a remarkable machine. Possibly one
that could be used to rule a world. For now he would be satisfied
with revenge against the one who had crippled him. Then maybe, he
would make the <i>Umbrage</i> his own ship.</span></div>
<div style="font-weight: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<div style="font-weight: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-family: Liberation Serif, serif;">Something
approximating a smile crossed his lips.</span></div>
<div style="font-weight: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<div style="font-weight: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-family: Liberation Serif, serif;">He
thought to the machine and it began walking toward the only exit in
the node chamber, Blade was looking forward to tearing Tom Grier into
pieces. After finishing off these rebels he would heard toward the
bridge and introduce himself to Admiral Robinson properly. His plans
were falling into place.</span></div>
<div style="font-weight: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<div style="font-weight: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<div style="font-weight: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;">
…
</div>
<div style="font-weight: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<div style="font-weight: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;">
“<span style="font-family: Liberation Serif, serif;">What
is that thing?” Someone asked.</span></div>
<div style="font-weight: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<div style="font-weight: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;">
“<span style="font-family: Liberation Serif, serif;">It’s
massive.”</span></div>
<div style="font-weight: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<div style="font-weight: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;">
“<span style="font-family: Liberation Serif, serif;">I’ve
never seen anything like it,” Tom told them, “It doesn’t matter
how big it is, we still have to take it out. Get those explosive
charges ready.”</span></div>
<div style="font-weight: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<div style="font-weight: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;">
“<span style="font-family: Liberation Serif, serif;"><i>What’s
happening Tom?</i>” Maggie’s voice asked, she sounded concerned.</span></div>
<div style="font-weight: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<div style="font-weight: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;">
“<span style="font-family: Liberation Serif, serif;">I
don’t have time to talk, okay?” Tom replied, “You didn’t warn
me about this thing, is it some kind of tank?”</span></div>
<div style="font-weight: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<div style="font-weight: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;">
“<span style="font-family: Liberation Serif, serif;"><i>I
don’t know what you’re talking about, Tom. I don’t see anything
moving near you on the sensors.</i>”</span></div>
<div style="font-weight: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<div style="font-weight: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-family: Liberation Serif, serif;">Tom
knew Maggie well enough to know that statement did not sound like a
lie. She didn’t know about that thing? It wasn’t showing up on
the sensors? This was not good news.</span></div>
<div style="font-weight: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<div style="font-weight: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;">
“<span style="font-family: Liberation Serif, serif;">It’s
a huge armored suit, probably from the Marines.”</span></div>
<div style="font-weight: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<div style="font-weight: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;">
“<span style="font-family: Liberation Serif, serif;"><i>The
General hasn’t said anything about such a suit Tom. Not around me.</i>”</span></div>
<div style="font-weight: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<div style="font-weight: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-family: Liberation Serif, serif;">Time
was up.</span></div>
<div style="font-weight: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<div style="font-weight: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-family: Liberation Serif, serif;">Tom
took the QBR-44 from his back and turned the corner. The massive
armor suit was only a few meters away. The arm of the suit didn’t
move but part of the forearm moved aside and a weapon appeared which
was already moving toward Tom.</span></div>
<div style="font-weight: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<div style="font-weight: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-family: Liberation Serif, serif;">Tom
dodged sideways as the weapon fired, an energy beam punched a hole
right through the wall of the chamber. Tom returned fire, an
explosive round right at the chest of the massive suit. Some sort of
force-field had stopped it from causing any damage.</span></div>
<div style="font-weight: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<div style="font-weight: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-family: Liberation Serif, serif;">This
was not good at all.</span></div>
<div style="font-weight: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<div style="font-weight: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-family: Liberation Serif, serif;">The
rebels were leaning over from the doorway firing rounds at the enemy
armor, but it was paying no attention to them. </span>
</div>
<div style="font-weight: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<div style="font-weight: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;">
“<span style="font-family: Liberation Serif, serif;">Explosive
charge, now!” Tom told them. He moved away from the hulking suit
toward the back of the chamber as the first charge landed amidst its
feet. The suit stopped and seemed to look down as the explosion
rocked the whole chamber and floor.</span></div>
<div style="font-weight: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<div style="font-weight: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-family: Liberation Serif, serif;">The
suit appeared undamaged, unlike the floor and part of the nearby
walls.</span></div>
<div style="font-weight: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<div style="font-weight: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;">
“<span style="font-family: Liberation Serif, serif;">What
is this thing?”</span></div>
<div style="font-weight: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<div style="font-weight: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-family: Liberation Serif, serif;">The
suit now started moving toward Tom a lot faster than it had any right
to be moving. Tom fired a burst of anti-armor rounds right at it, but
they only seemed to scratch some paint of its chest. Then it stopped
and the faceplate moved aside.</span></div>
<div style="font-weight: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<div style="font-weight: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-family: Liberation Serif, serif;">It
was the sniper he had fought in Valla. </span>
</div>
<div style="font-weight: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<div style="font-weight: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;">
“<span style="font-family: Liberation Serif, serif;">How?”</span></div>
<div style="font-weight: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<div style="font-weight: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-family: Liberation Serif, serif;">The
sneer on the mans face broke into an ugly smile, “I wondered that
myself, Tom Grier, but I think the better question is ‘why?’. The
answer to <i>that</i> question is simple, so that I can get my
revenge on you and others who wronged me!”</span></div>
<div style="font-weight: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<div style="font-weight: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;">
…</div>
<div style="font-weight: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<div style="font-weight: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-family: Liberation Serif, serif;">Blade
took aim at Tom Grier with his powerful V-Beam weapon just as the
lights went out. Something thumped him on the back of the suit,
probably those rebels with their puny weapons again. Now why was the
night vision and sensors not working? Thankfully life support was
working, the air circulation system was running in fits and starts.</span></div>
<div style="font-weight: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<div style="font-weight: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-family: Liberation Serif, serif;">The
lights came back on and he wasn’t looking at Tom Grier anymore. He
was looking at one of the gravitic nodes. The suit informed him that
some of field generator had caused a computer error but that systems
were self-repairing. He could move again.</span></div>
<div style="font-weight: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<div style="font-weight: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-family: Liberation Serif, serif;">Now
where did Tom and his merry band of rebels run off to?</span></div>
<div style="font-weight: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<div style="font-weight: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-family: Liberation Serif, serif;">There,
near the entrance to the chamber. Two of them were carrying the body
of that rebel he had killed first. Tom Grier had holstered his big
Marine rifle and was holding something else in his hands. With a
thought a powerful projectile gun appeared in the hand of Blades
suit, since the energy weapon was still malfunctioning.</span></div>
<div style="font-weight: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<div style="font-weight: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;">
“<span style="font-family: Liberation Serif, serif;">Your
device to cripple the Marine suits don’t work on this one, Tom!”
He said as he made the suit take the first steps toward the chamber
exit. Then he extended his gun arm and thought the order to fire but
nothing happened.</span></div>
<div style="font-weight: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<div style="font-weight: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-family: Liberation Serif, serif;">The
rebels were moving fast away from him, down the corridor.</span></div>
<div style="font-weight: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<div style="font-weight: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-family: Liberation Serif, serif;">The
computer said the rounds had indeed been fired but that the rounds
had been suspended inside of the barrels. He saw a representation of
this appear as if watching an x-ray machine, the rounds then moved
quickly in reverse and exploded out the back of the suits armored
elbow.</span></div>
<div style="font-weight: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<div style="font-weight: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-family: Liberation Serif, serif;">The
suit was also being pulled and turned. The whole chamber was
twisting, he could hear the metal moaning through the thick armor.
The suit turned around and he could see the gravitic node had been
destroyed by explosives, the explosion itself was struggling to
expand against the force of artificial gravity out of control.</span></div>
<div style="font-weight: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<div style="font-weight: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-family: Liberation Serif, serif;">The
chamber and everything else, including his armored suit, was twisting
around the fiery node as if it were a small black hole. It seemed to
be happening in slow motion to Blade, who had been mesmerized by the
view for a moment. Now he was struggling to get free of the grip of
the depolarized, unbalanced gravity node.</span></div>
<div style="font-weight: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<div style="font-weight: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-family: Liberation Serif, serif;">A
vessel the size of the <i>Umbrage</i> required two nodes, at polar
ends but near the middle decks to balance the artificial gravity. If
one were to weaken, the other would weaken automatically in response,
because the whole system depended on balance. The two nodes were in
special chambers because they needed to be the most protected parts
of the ship.</span></div>
<div style="font-weight: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<div style="font-weight: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-family: Liberation Serif, serif;">If
one of the nodes were to be blown up and the other was prevented from
shutting down in response, the out of control gravitic forces could
twist and tear the ship apart.</span></div>
<div style="font-weight: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<div style="font-weight: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-family: Liberation Serif, serif;">This
was Tom Griers whole goal, of course. The destruction of the Umbrage
would be a severe blow to the Free Republic. They couldn’t build
ships like it any longer, things had gone downhill far too much for
that.</span></div>
<div style="font-weight: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<div style="font-weight: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;">
…</div>
<div style="font-weight: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<div style="font-weight: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;">
“<span style="font-family: Liberation Serif, serif;">We
have to get off this ship, now!” Tom told the others as they ran.
He had sent the same message to the other team.</span></div>
<div style="font-weight: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<div style="font-weight: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;">
“<span style="font-family: Liberation Serif, serif;">Signal
the base to send a ship to get us!” He said, but it was too soon.
There was probably no chance a message could reach the ground, there
was too much jamming. In fact, the unleashed gravitic reaction was
causing more than the fleet ever could.</span></div>
<div style="font-weight: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<div style="font-weight: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;">
“<span style="font-family: Liberation Serif, serif;"><i>Tom,
what’s happening?</i>” Maggie’s voice sounded in his suit
helmet again.</span></div>
<div style="font-weight: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<div style="font-weight: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;">
“<span style="font-family: Liberation Serif, serif;">The
<i>Umbrage</i> is toast, Maggie. You need to get on an escape pod,
now!” He answered.</span></div>
<div style="font-weight: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<div style="font-weight: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;">
…</div>
<div style="font-weight: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-family: Liberation Serif, serif;"><b><i>Umbrage</i>,
Marine Deck</b></span></div>
<div style="font-weight: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<div style="font-weight: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;">
“<span style="font-family: Liberation Serif, serif;">Everybody
to the escape pods! The <i>Dispensation</i> is moving into position
to pick us up!” General Gallant ordered, it was a good thing most
of the Marines were on Sync because the Tech ship wasn’t that big.
The alarms were ringing all through the ship, it looked like the
whole thing might tear itself apart.</span></div>
<div style="font-weight: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<div style="font-weight: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-family: Liberation Serif, serif;">Gallant
checked the last of the officer quarters and assumed most had already
gotten off. He moved to get aboard one of the few remaining pods when
he heard the metal scream and the whole bulkhead started pulsating
and then twisting as he watched. It made him feel sick to his stomach
but it was all the impetus he needed to get out.</span></div>
<div style="font-weight: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<div style="font-weight: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-family: Liberation Serif, serif;">There
was no saving the <i>Umbrage</i> from this. He strapped into the seat
as the controller Maggie Anders climbed in.</span></div>
<div style="font-weight: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<div style="font-weight: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;">
“<span style="font-family: Liberation Serif, serif;">What
are you still doing here?”</span></div>
<div style="font-weight: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<div style="font-weight: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;">
“<span style="font-family: Liberation Serif, serif;">Looking
for you!”</span></div>
<div style="font-weight: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<div style="font-weight: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;">
“<span style="font-family: Liberation Serif, serif;">It’s
not my ship, I’m not going to go down with it!” he told her as he
slapped the release mechanism and the pod pushed away from the ship.</span></div>
<div style="font-weight: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<div style="font-weight: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-family: Liberation Serif, serif;">He
breathed a sigh of relief but a whimper from Maggie Anders made him
open his eyes and look out the porthole. Instead of a gentle move
away from the twisting hulk of carrier <i>Umbrage</i>, the pods and a
lot of wreckage broken from the large vessel were swaying and being
pulled around with it. Like playthings floating in the tub of an
unruly child.</span></div>
<div style="font-weight: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<div style="font-weight: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-family: Liberation Serif, serif;">General
Gallant used the radio to contact the <i>Dispensation</i>, “Where
are you?”</span></div>
<div style="font-weight: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<div style="font-weight: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;">
“<span style="font-family: Liberation Serif, serif;">I
can’t get any closer! This ship would be caught in that mess too.”
Lt General Edwards responded.</span></div>
<div style="font-weight: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<div style="font-weight: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;">
“<span style="font-family: Liberation Serif, serif;">Get
as close as you dare! We’re going to need some help!”</span></div>
<div style="font-weight: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<div style="font-weight: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;">
…</div>
<div style="font-weight: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-family: Liberation Serif, serif;"><b>Free
Republic Fleet Carrier <i>Umbrage</i>, Bridge</b></span></div>
<div style="font-weight: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<div style="font-weight: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;">
“<span style="font-family: Liberation Serif, serif;">What
is happening to my ship?” Admiral James “Jim” Robinson tried to
make himself hear above the alarms and the sounds of twisting metal,
“Commander Grabble!”</span></div>
<div style="font-weight: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<div style="font-weight: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-family: Liberation Serif, serif;">Grabble
finally appeared, “Admiral, we need to get in an escape pod!”</span></div>
<div style="font-weight: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<div style="font-weight: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;">
“<span style="font-family: Liberation Serif, serif;">No!
I’m not leaving my post!”</span></div>
<div style="font-weight: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<div style="font-weight: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;">
“<span style="font-family: Liberation Serif, serif;">Admiral,
this ship is dying, it’s not going to survive this!”</span></div>
<div style="font-weight: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<div style="font-weight: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;">
“<span style="font-family: Liberation Serif, serif;">It
must, the <i>Umbrage</i> is the most powerful ship in the Free
Republic fleet, we must be victorious!”</span></div>
<div style="font-weight: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<div style="font-weight: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-family: Liberation Serif, serif;">The
Admiral was in full denial about what was happening. The crew had
abandoned their posts and were getting out in the escape pods. </span>
</div>
<div style="font-weight: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<div style="font-weight: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;">
“<span style="font-family: Liberation Serif, serif;">Admiral,
we must leave at once!”</span></div>
<div style="font-weight: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<div style="font-weight: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;">
“<span style="font-family: Liberation Serif, serif;">The
rebels did this! Order a bombardment of the surface, all cities! Turn
them all to dust!”</span></div>
<div style="font-weight: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<div style="font-weight: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-family: Liberation Serif, serif;">The
Commander shook his head, he couldn’t get through. The Admiral was
truly out of his mind. The Commander left and ran towards one of the
remaining escape pods. The Admiral was now bouncing around the bridge
almost uncontrollably in his hover-chair.</span></div>
<div style="font-weight: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<div style="font-weight: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;">
“<span style="font-family: Liberation Serif, serif;">I’m
not going to lose this one!” Admiral James Robinson vowed, “We
aren’t going to lose, we’re going to be victorious and all those
who don’t join us shall be vanquished!”</span></div>
<div style="font-weight: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<div style="font-weight: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-family: Liberation Serif, serif;">Somehow
the Admiral made it to his office. He activated the holograph of his
dearest Sarah, her visage shifted and waved along with the
gravitational forces tearing the ship apart. She was one of his
deepest and most profound regrets. How could she have left him? Even
for the vaunted Emperor? Though he had accepted it, he was only now
understanding that he did partially blame her.</span></div>
<div style="font-weight: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<div style="font-weight: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;">
“<span style="font-family: Liberation Serif, serif;">My
Sarah,” he whispered with a raspy breath.</span></div>
<div style="font-weight: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<div style="font-weight: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-family: Liberation Serif, serif;">Then
the power went out.</span></div>
<div style="font-weight: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
GeronLhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13145189615256636055noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5787869099782509690.post-13678345610577481212016-07-24T04:00:00.003-07:002016-07-24T04:00:57.736-07:00Escape From The Free Republic - Chapter Twelve<a href="http://flscifi.blogspot.com/2016/07/escape-from-free-republic-chapter-eleven.html">Chapter Eleven</a><br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgthBdhqr5FaDN7DqRt8Sg5onfuFzVzrhHKbjzCrsw4pMlFQO9fUYrJVhTp2W_aHPEoZGR0v8loTDVe22RDlZC2_9iMpoIyhSPj1oyjr23TCZiX1LJz62QJoe8RLMZ0pAt9xYgYsHZ-gYts/s320/escapefr.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgthBdhqr5FaDN7DqRt8Sg5onfuFzVzrhHKbjzCrsw4pMlFQO9fUYrJVhTp2W_aHPEoZGR0v8loTDVe22RDlZC2_9iMpoIyhSPj1oyjr23TCZiX1LJz62QJoe8RLMZ0pAt9xYgYsHZ-gYts/s320/escapefr.jpg" /></a></div>
<br />
<br />
<div align="center" style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-family: Liberation Serif, serif;"><span style="font-size: medium;">Chapter
Twelve</span></span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-family: Liberation Serif, serif;"><b>Free
Republic Carrier Umbrage</b></span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-family: Liberation Serif, serif;">The
main corridor through the center of the ship on the mid-deck was a
bit wider than the ones below it, because this deck did not have crew
quarters and associated things. This was all meant for work spaces
and at each end of the vessel, on this deck, the main power
distribution nodes and the protective field generators and the
artificial gravity systems were located.</span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-family: Liberation Serif, serif;">No
enemy force had ever boarded a carrier in memory. There was no real
good reason for these critical systems to be protected from the
inside. They already had the whole ship wrapped around them, they
were well-protected from exterior threats.</span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-family: Liberation Serif, serif;">Tom
Grier hefted the Quad-Barreled Battle Rifle, QBR-44, it was longer
than he was tall, and weight too much to carry without the powered
armor suit he wore. The armored suit of the Free Republic Marines,
now worn by a rebel fighting for the independence of a world called
Sync. </span>
</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-family: Liberation Serif, serif;">If
Sync won its independence, other worlds would follow. The Free
Republic was already weakened by its ruthless but not-quite competent
government. As history showed, authoritarian governments and their
repression regressed a society and crippled its ability to grow and
innovate.</span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
“<span style="font-family: Liberation Serif, serif;">Where
are they?” Tom asked. The Marines on the carrier should be there to
stop him and the other rebels. They had entered through a tear in a
cargo hatch and had climbed the decks fighting unarmored ship
security personnel and their lightly armed drones. It had all been a
very uneven match. There were Marines on this ship who could give
them a real match, but where were they?</span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
“<span style="font-family: Liberation Serif, serif;">Do
you think they are inside of the nodes?” Felix asked, “Would that
even make sense?”</span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-family: Liberation Serif, serif;">Tom
frowned, “No way. That would be a terrible place to put up a
defensive. They need to do that as far from the vital systems as
possible.”</span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-family: Liberation Serif, serif;">Tom
clicked the secure communications on his suit, “Skyler, where are
you?”</span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
“<span style="font-family: Liberation Serif, serif;"><i>We’re
near the forward node. It just feels too quiet</i>,” the other
soldier responded.</span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
“<span style="font-family: Liberation Serif, serif;">Same
here.”</span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
“<span style="font-family: Liberation Serif, serif;"><i>I’ve
got eyes on the entrance to the </i><i>forward</i><i> node, it
appears unguarded. I don’t get this.</i>”</span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
“<span style="font-family: Liberation Serif, serif;">Skyler,
search the area for any threat and then hold for my mark, we’ll
blow these systems simultaneously if we can,” Tom told him.</span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
“<span style="font-family: Liberation Serif, serif;"><i>Roger
tha…</i>” the transmission garbled.</span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-family: Liberation Serif, serif;">Tom
sighed, well it had to happen sooner or later he told himself. </span>
</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
“<span style="font-family: Liberation Serif, serif;"><i>Tom!</i>”
A familiar voice sounded in his ear. He looked around and saw that
his men were in defensive positions, waiting to move.</span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
“<span style="font-family: Liberation Serif, serif;"><i>Tom,
it’s me Maggie</i>,” the voice said, “<i>I was able to hack
into your suit. Listen to me, Tom, you need to get off this ship as
soon as possible</i>!”</span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
“<span style="font-family: Liberation Serif, serif;">Maggie,
can you hear me?” Tom asked, “You should head for the nearest
escape pod, I am taking down this ship.”</span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
“<span style="font-family: Liberation Serif, serif;"><i>Tom,
you don’t need to do this.</i>”</span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
“<span style="font-family: Liberation Serif, serif;">The
Free Republic has become despotic. It’s nothing like we were
taught. Everything they told us about it in school ended years ago.
Sync and the other worlds deserve their independence,” Tom told
her, “If you want to live through this, Maggie, get in a pod.”</span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
“<span style="font-family: Liberation Serif, serif;"><i>Listen
Tom. The Admiral put up barricades to keep the Marines isolated, but
they have found a way in now. They’ll be there soon</i>,” Maggie
told him. He had no way to know if it was true. If it was true, then
there were no Marines waiting for them inside the node chambers.</span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-family: Liberation Serif, serif;">Tom
weighed the odds. They were unknown, but he decided that she was just
being the mouthpiece of the Marine General. </span>
</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-family: Liberation Serif, serif;">He
muted his suit com, “I’ll lead the way, check your weapons.”</span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-family: Liberation Serif, serif;">The
QBR-44 he carried was loaded with different kinds of ammunition. He
could fire the regular fifty caliber rounds, grenade rounds,
armor-penetrating rounds and acid rounds. The barrels hummed and they
spun up into ready mode.</span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
“<span style="font-family: Liberation Serif, serif;"><i>Tom.
You should escape while you have time. You don’t need to do this,</i>”
Maggie’s voice penetrated through his skull, “<i>The Marines </i><i>are
</i><i>on the way.</i>”</span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-family: Liberation Serif, serif;">Tom
began a fast walk toward the node chamber down the corridor, his men
followed on high alert for any threat. No sign of any opposition,
which was extremely unnerving. Felix checked the entrances to the
left while another soldier looked into all of the doors to the right.
The deck was completely abandoned of any personnel.</span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-family: Liberation Serif, serif;">The
look of concern on Felix was more and more pronounced as they
proceeded. The entrance to the node chamber was near. Tom considered
firing his grenades into the chamber from where he was, but he wanted
to carry out the mission as it was planned.</span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-family: Liberation Serif, serif;">Suddenly
five armored Marine suits walked into the corridor between his team
and the node chamber.</span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
“<span style="font-family: Liberation Serif, serif;">Into
the workshops!” Felix said as they all ducked to the two sides as
the first rounds were fired by the Marines.</span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
“<span style="font-family: Liberation Serif, serif;">We
are too close to stop now,” Tom said, he clicked the QBR-44 over to
grenade rounds and spun out into the corridor, he fired eight rounds
in two seconds and ducked back into the side chamber while the
Marines were reacting.</span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-family: Liberation Serif, serif;">He
heard the firing of the other QBR-44’s and peeked out. They had
shot down the grenade rounds and none of them had flown past the
sentries. It was likely that the Marines guarding the node chamber
weren’t allowed to fire their own grenade rounds aboard the
carrier.</span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
“<span style="font-family: Liberation Serif, serif;"><i>There
is an escape pod in that chamber, Tom, use it to escape!</i>”
Maggie’s voice interrupted his thoughts. He tried to turn off the
connection, he wanted to contact Skyler on the aft side of the ship
but nothing was happening.</span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
“<span style="font-family: Liberation Serif, serif;">The
Marines aren’t coming after us, they’re just guarding the node
chamber,” Felix said, he had stuck the end of his gun into the
corridor. The end of the gun had a camera connected to his armored
suit, which was not as powerful as a Marine suit.</span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
“<span style="font-family: Liberation Serif, serif;">That
makes me even more nervous,” Someone else said.</span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
“<span style="font-family: Liberation Serif, serif;">Something
is happening. What is that?” Felix asked, activating his
holographic imager over his wrist for a better look.</span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
“<span style="font-family: Liberation Serif, serif;">It’s
a Vike! Oh damn it’s armed!” </span>
</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-family: Liberation Serif, serif;">The
robotic “cat” padded its way down the corridor toward them.
Normally used to carry supplies or to sneak looks at enemy locations,
this one was carrying a big gun. Tom stepped into the corridor and
fired a grenade round at the Vike and it sidestepped the round which
bounced before exploding. The “Viking Kitty” was thrown but used
its legs to “walk” and push off the opposite wall and back to the
floor.</span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-family: Liberation Serif, serif;">Then
it began firing at Tom was surprised to see explosive rounds inbound.
He threw himself across the corridor and through a closed hatch,
busting it off the hinges as the blast missed him. Tom got back up
the Vike stopped outside and then turned in his direction.</span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-family: Liberation Serif, serif;">Tom
clicked the gun over to acid rounds.</span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-family: Liberation Serif, serif;">The
Vike pounced at Tom, but he ducked under the robotic beast and moved
to the other side of the chamber but the Vike was already pushing off
the wall and flying right toward him again. Tom sidestepped and then
batted at the Vike with the gun as it passed. This gave the robot
pause, so Tom fired two acid rounds at it.</span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-family: Liberation Serif, serif;">Tom
was aiming for the gun it carried on its back. The first acid round
hit the robots “head”, which Tom hoped would blind it. The second
one hit the gun but it did not appear damaged on the outside.</span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-family: Liberation Serif, serif;">The
Vike stopped and slowly moved its head from side to side. Tom tried
not to make a sound. He didn’t know if that made a difference, it
was just built in caution. Then maybe its sensors kicked in because
it started towards Tom again. He fired some normal rounds at it but
it was able to dodge most of those.</span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-family: Liberation Serif, serif;">It
had its own micro-radar. It could detect incoming shells or any other
moving target and know exactly where they had come from. The Vike
aimed at Tom who tried to shift his direction and found the wall was
keeping him from rolling away.</span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-family: Liberation Serif, serif;">The
Vike didn’t fire. It turned and ran into the corridor though where
Felix was able to hit it a few times with his own weapon as it padded
back to the Marines.</span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
“<span style="font-family: Liberation Serif, serif;">They
seem to be playing for time!” Felix said.</span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
“<span style="font-family: Liberation Serif, serif;">The
longer we are here, the better chance of moving in enough Marines to
mount an offensive. I think we need to attack, as quickly as
possible,” Tom told the others over his com.</span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
“<span style="font-family: Liberation Serif, serif;"><i>Tom,
other Marines are on the way. I think Colonel Mortimer will be
leading the charge.</i>” Maggie told him. Believe her? He did,
actually, this time. For some reason General Gallant was letting him
know exactly was going on. Which meant something was being left out,
no way they would tell Tom everything.</span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
“<span style="font-family: Liberation Serif, serif;"><i>This
is Team Two, we are pinned down. Looks like three Marines defending
the forward node.</i>”</span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-family: Liberation Serif, serif;">The
rebel device to shut down the Marine implants would work if the ship
didn’t have a much more powerful null field of its own. Inside of
the <i>Umbrage</i>, with the field, the range on the rebel device
must be extremely reduced.</span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-family: Liberation Serif, serif;">Several
of his men carried the device, just in case.</span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
“<span style="font-family: Liberation Serif, serif;">Okay,
we need to get close to the Marines. Maybe we can knock them out with
the device if we are close,” Tom told them, the com to Team Two was
open so maybe they could hear, but he wasn’t hearing anything from
them.</span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
“<span style="font-family: Liberation Serif, serif;">How
would we get close enough without getting killed?” someone asked.</span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
“<span style="font-family: Liberation Serif, serif;">Anyone
want to surrender?” Tom asked.</span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-family: Liberation Serif, serif;"><b><i>Carrier</i>
Umbrage, <i>Bridge</i></b></span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
“<span style="font-family: Liberation Serif, serif;">Admiral,
the rebel intruders are closing in on the forward and aft nodes!”
Commander Grabble reported. The aging Admiral in his hover-chair
looked more tired than ever, the skin on his face even seemed to sag.
His whole body was slumped and his uniform was wrinkled as if he
hadn’t even thought of cleaning up.</span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
“<span style="font-family: Liberation Serif, serif;">We
must defend the nodes. Do whatever needs to be done, Commander!”
Admiral James “Jim” Robinson ordered.</span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
“<span style="font-family: Liberation Serif, serif;">Good
news, some Marines were able to reach the middle deck, sir!” one of
the younger officers reported, “It seems they went outside the ship
through the lander hangar and came in through an escape pod port.”</span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
“<span style="font-family: Liberation Serif, serif;">They
know we need them,” Grabble replied, “They’ll do their jobs.”</span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
“<span style="font-family: Liberation Serif, serif;">I
still don’t like Gallant having his men traipsing all over my ship.
When this is over, I’m going to tell the… President that the
Marines need their own deployment vessels,” Robinson said.</span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
“<span style="font-family: Liberation Serif, serif;">Admiral,
the Free Republic hasn’t built a capital ship in a long time,”
Commander Grabble reminded him, “We just don’t have that
capability right now. The Carriers were built to carry Marines.”</span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
“<span style="font-family: Liberation Serif, serif;">We
will redesign them. The Carrier should carry more fighters, why
should Onyx flight be the only ones?” The Admiral asked, becoming
agitated again.</span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-family: Liberation Serif, serif;">Commander
Grabble held his tongue. The Admiral was just upset. There was no
doubt the Admiral knew perfectly well the limitations of space
fighters. They were barely useful in the role of ship defense, giving
the enemy more targets confuse them and to shoot at. They were mainly
used to attack targets on the surface of planets for a very good
reason.</span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
“<span style="font-family: Liberation Serif, serif;">What
is happening down there?” Robinson demanded.</span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
“<span style="font-family: Liberation Serif, serif;">Looks
like the Marines are guarding the nodes and the rebels are hold up
nearby.”</span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
“<span style="font-family: Liberation Serif, serif;">Why
don’t those Marines just move in and take them out?” The Admiral
asked.</span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
“<span style="font-family: Liberation Serif, serif;">Defenders
have an advantage over attackers. There are other Marines on the way
that will give them the ability to attack without leaving the nodes
undefended,” Grabble explained.</span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-family: Liberation Serif, serif;"><b><i>Carrier</i><span style="font-style: normal;">
</span><span style="font-style: normal;">Umbrage</span>, <i>exterior</i></b></span></div>
<div style="font-weight: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<div style="font-weight: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-family: Liberation Serif, serif;">The
Free Republic Marines made their way up the side of the massive
vessel wearing their armored powered suits. The suits would keep them
alive even in space itself, but they still had to be careful because
it was never safe outside.</span></div>
<div style="font-weight: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<div style="font-weight: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;">
“<span style="font-family: Liberation Serif, serif;">Hampton,
watch your footholds. You’ll slip away if you don’t secure it,”
Colonel Mortimer chided one of the Marines for being a little
careless.</span></div>
<div style="font-weight: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<div style="font-weight: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;">
“<span style="font-family: Liberation Serif, serif;">Aye,
sir!”</span></div>
<div style="font-weight: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<div style="font-weight: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-family: Liberation Serif, serif;">They
arrived at the lock that had been used for an escape pod. The empty
pod was three hundred meters away and still silently drifting. The
first to arrive was Sergeant Hollings, who still remembered his
combat training. The others were older and mostly assigned to
administrative duties. Most of the real Marines were down on Sync
fighting a rebel uprising.</span></div>
<div style="font-weight: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<div style="font-weight: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-family: Liberation Serif, serif;">Suddenly
Hollings helmet exploded and most of his head too. Hampton let go of
his handholds and tried to pull the battle rifle off of his back but
several holes appeared on the hull around him before his chest
exploded and the young staff officer floated away, just barely above
the surface of the <i>Umbrage</i>.</span></div>
<div style="font-weight: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<div style="font-weight: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;">
“<span style="font-family: Liberation Serif, serif;">Where
is that coming from?” Mortimer demanded, looking everywhere he
could. An explosion to his left had torn another of the Marines into
pieces. Worse, it had dislodged Colonel Mortimer and he was flailing
as he floated away. </span>
</div>
<div style="font-weight: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<div style="font-weight: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-family: Liberation Serif, serif;">Something
crossed in front of him.</span></div>
<div style="font-weight: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<div style="font-weight: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-family: Liberation Serif, serif;">Finally
Colonel Mortimer used the small rockets to get some control. Then he
turned and used the suit booster to get him back to the carrier. That
is when he noticed another armored suit that was much larger than his
own.</span></div>
<div style="font-weight: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<div style="font-weight: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-family: Liberation Serif, serif;">The
other soldier, in the strange suit, came close before reaching out
and wrapping an armored hand around the neck of the Colonels’ suit.
It pulled the colonel close to its own head as if to get a visual
inspection. Then the faceplate moved aside and allowed Mortimer to
see inside.</span></div>
<div style="font-weight: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<div style="font-weight: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;">
“<span style="font-family: Liberation Serif, serif;">Oh
God! You’re supposed to be dead!” Colonel Mortimer said as the
much larger and more powerful suit threw him against the hull of the
carrier. Then he felt the suit he wore buffet and he slowly drifted
away from the carrier. His booster malfunctioned and his attitude
thrusters just plain did not work.</span></div>
<div style="font-weight: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<div style="font-weight: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;">
“<span style="font-family: Liberation Serif, serif;">This
is Colonel Mortimer, I have a message for the General!” The Colonel
tried to call out on his suit radio. He was drifting away from the
carrier. Mortimer could see the large armored suit climb through the
pod hatch. The person in that suit was insane, he had to be, he was
killing anyone who was in thw way.</span></div>
<div style="font-weight: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<div style="font-weight: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;">
“<span style="font-family: Liberation Serif, serif;">Blade!”
Mortimer yelled, heard by no-one but himself.</span></div>
<div style="font-weight: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<div style="font-weight: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;">
-----</div>
<div style="font-weight: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<div style="font-weight: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;">
Please consider helping me out by <a href="http://flscifi.blogspot.com/p/book-page.html">buying one of my ebooks</a></div>
GeronLhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13145189615256636055noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5787869099782509690.post-88728392267835674922016-07-11T12:00:00.000-07:002016-07-11T12:00:02.412-07:00Salt: A Short Story
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<br />
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<span style="color: red;"><span style="font-size: x-small;">This story does not really make scientific sense, salt is likely extremely common in the galaxy.</span></span><br />
</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
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</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<h2 align="CENTER" style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-family: Liberation Serif, serif; font-size: large;"><b>Salt</b></span></h2>
<div align="CENTER" style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-family: Liberation Serif, serif;"><span style="font-size: small;"><b>by Floyd Looney </b></span></span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
“<span style="font-family: Liberation Serif, serif;"><span style="font-size: small;">Of
all the worlds under the veil, why this one?” Irena grumbled. </span></span>
</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
“<span style="font-family: Liberation Serif, serif;"><span style="font-size: small;">We
just needed to get off that decrepit freighter, I don't think it's
space worthy!” Brad answered as he piloted the two-seat shuttle-pod
toward the only city on the world below. It was at the center of a
greenbelt, which was surrounded by dense jungle and rivers, then not
far beyond that was desert that covered most of the planet.</span></span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
“<span style="font-family: Liberation Serif, serif;"><span style="font-size: small;">This
is not good! I heard that women are bought and sold down there, we
should just go back to the freighter,” Irena said, pretending to
panic.</span></span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-family: Liberation Serif, serif;"><span style="font-size: small;">Brad
just laughed, “You are perfectly safe. I can guarantee that.”</span></span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
“<span style="font-family: Liberation Serif, serif;"><span style="font-size: small;">What
else do you know about Dunga?” Irena asked. Brad frowned but tried
to look distracted by the piloting of the ship. Irena knew it took
very little effort to fly the thing, they'd flown together one
hundred and seventy-two times. Thirty-seven of those times she was
the one who piloted.</span></span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
“<span style="font-family: Liberation Serif, serif;"><span style="font-size: small;">I'll
tell you,” She told him, “First noted in survey logs in 2234.
First explorer on the ground was in 2244. First science outpost
established in 2264. A Terran colony was planned to be put here in
2275 by the United Authority before the rebellions started across the
veil. During the first phase of the Terran Collapse, someone named
John Belfrey Roberts claimed the planet and settled it with a handful
of families loyal to him. He made himself their king. Are you
listening?”</span></span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-family: Liberation Serif, serif;"><span style="font-size: small;">He
nodded, “It's just a history lesson, so far. Anything important I
should know?”</span></span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-family: Liberation Serif, serif;"><span style="font-size: small;">She
nodded, “They are not very technologically advanced, their economy
can't support anything too complicated. Because of this, the people
have become sort of technophobic. For one they have outlawed
androids...”</span></span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-family: Liberation Serif, serif;"><span style="font-size: small;">Brad
smiled and looked at her as their shuttle-pod flew low toward the
space-port ahead, “Nobody is going to know that you are an android,
believe me you look completely human.”</span></span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
“<span style="font-family: Liberation Serif, serif;"><span style="font-size: small;">Yet,
I am safe from being captured and sold as a female because I'm an
android?” Irena asked.</span></span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
“<span style="font-family: Liberation Serif, serif;"><span style="font-size: small;">No,
I forged the documents that show I own you, of course,” He said as
the shuttle-pod landed on the broken tarmac with a thud.</span></span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
“<span style="font-family: Liberation Serif, serif;"><span style="font-size: small;">You...
you <i>own</i> me?”</span></span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-family: Liberation Serif, serif;"><span style="font-size: small;">The
glasserine sides of the cockpit slid upward and the warm air from
outside tossed her blond hair around for a few seconds, she was still
staring at Brad. </span></span>
</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
“<span style="font-family: Liberation Serif, serif;"><span style="font-size: small;">What
do you mean that you own...” She started to say when the ground
crew arrived.</span></span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
“<span style="font-family: Liberation Serif, serif;"><span style="font-size: small;">Welcome
to Dunga!” a short, fat balding man said in greeting. He wore a
white toga-like wrap as everyone seemed to wear on this world.
Advanced clothing was hard to come by, and only the upper classes
would be seen wearing dyed cloth.</span></span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
“<span style="font-family: Liberation Serif, serif;"><span style="font-size: small;">My
name is Brad Alexander, and this is my female,” He told the man and
handed over some paper documents that would prove this was true.</span></span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
“<span style="font-family: Liberation Serif, serif;"><span style="font-size: small;">Very
good, sir, everything looks to be in order,” the man said giving
the documents back with a bow, “Shall we take care of your pod,
sir? Very small charge.”</span></span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
“<span style="font-family: Liberation Serif, serif;"><span style="font-size: small;">Just
wash and park it,” Brad said and tossed a cylinder of salt to the
man.</span></span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
“<span style="font-family: Liberation Serif, serif;"><span style="font-size: small;">Oh
my,” The man exclaimed when he discovered what he had been given.</span></span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
“<span style="font-family: Liberation Serif, serif;"><span style="font-size: small;">I
see that you have done your homework, but that was far too valuable
locally to be handing out as a gratuity,” Irena said as she
followed him toward the small terminal building. Salt was impossible
to find on Dunga, it was not naturally found there. With the slow
collapse of star travel, the people of Dunga were in a real bind,
“Still this was a stupid place to choose, what if we are never able
to leave again?”</span></span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-family: Liberation Serif, serif;"><span style="font-size: small;">Brad
glanced back. It was a warning to stop talking and as she entered the
building Irena noted that there were a lot more people there than one
think for such an empty space port. There were dozens of men and some
of them holding leashes of females sitting on the floor. It looked
like they had been camped out there for some time, it was a mess and
the people were disheveled. </span></span>
</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
“<span style="font-family: Liberation Serif, serif;"><span style="font-size: small;">Please,
sir, can you get us off this world?” one of them begged, which
opened the floodgates and soon Brad was being jostled and surrounded
by the beggars. Irena itched to throw those people to the side but
she played the part of a woman owned and stood there meekly. Of
course she watched Brads backpack closely.</span></span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
“<span style="font-family: Liberation Serif, serif;"><span style="font-size: small;">Stop
it!” someone shouted and then there was a loud popping noise. The
beggars froze and then began moving away, seemingly frightened. Two
guards carrying some sort of beam weapons came up to Brad.</span></span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
“<span style="font-family: Liberation Serif, serif;"><span style="font-size: small;">Are
you okay, sir?” One of them asked, “Sorry about them vagabonds.
They all want to get off of Dunga something fierce.”</span></span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-family: Liberation Serif, serif;"><span style="font-size: small;">Brad
nodded, “I understand. I've come on business, I want to help this
world. Perhaps there is some local authority I can speak with about
what I have brought?”</span></span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-family: Liberation Serif, serif;"><span style="font-size: small;">The
guards looked at each other and back at Brad, “There is only one
authority on Dunga. We're not a big colony, we don't need more than
one.”</span></span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
“<span style="font-family: Liberation Serif, serif;"><span style="font-size: small;">Our
leader is called the Primero Uno de Dunga, his name is Frederick
Cavendish Roberts. The tall building at the center of town is his
Palace,” the other guard said, “You'll want to find transport, I
don't reckon you'd be safe seeing how you are obviously a stranger
here.”</span></span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-family: Liberation Serif, serif;"><span style="font-size: small;">Brad
made it through the main desk and then rented an ancient two-seat
transport bubble. The agent admitted it had glitches but that since
these things weren't manufactured on Dunga it was the best they were
likely to find.</span></span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-family: Liberation Serif, serif;"><span style="font-size: small;">Once
they were on the road, she saw that Brad had a little trouble with
the bubble transport, it kept pulling hard to the left.</span></span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
“<span style="font-family: Liberation Serif, serif;"><span style="font-size: small;">What
exactly is in the backpack?” Irena asked, “You stole it from the
freighter, obviously.”</span></span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-family: Liberation Serif, serif;"><span style="font-size: small;">Brad
laughed, “Of course. It's not like they'll turn around to come look
for it.”</span></span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
“<span style="font-family: Liberation Serif, serif;"><span style="font-size: small;">Do
you know what it is?” She asked.</span></span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-family: Liberation Serif, serif;"><span style="font-size: small;">He
nodded, “I'm pretty sure I know what it is.”</span></span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-family: Liberation Serif, serif;"><span style="font-size: small;">Irena
looked outside to her right, “You have no clue. Are you really
going to bluff your way into a meeting with the colony's leader with
a device you don't understand?”</span></span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-family: Liberation Serif, serif;"><span style="font-size: small;">He
stopped the bubble vehicle and sighed, “Listen, Irena, the device I
swiped from the freighter is a bio-matrix. It seems designed to do
two things, immediately make it possible to locate whatever salt this
world has. Two, over a long time it can change the ecology of this
planet.”</span></span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-family: Liberation Serif, serif;"><span style="font-size: small;">She
looked down at her lap, “Not exactly complimentary things.”</span></span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-family: Liberation Serif, serif;"><span style="font-size: small;">He
started the vehicle moving again, although she had noted the complete
lack of other traffic on the roads they passed and it was only early
evening.</span></span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-family: Liberation Serif, serif;"><span style="font-size: small;">Brad
spoke after a few moments, “Dunga is far from the only colony that
imports, or should I say imported, all of its salt. The matrix was
designed for another planet, but I am sure it will work well enough
for this one.”</span></span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-family: Liberation Serif, serif;"><span style="font-size: small;">If
the device could only locate salt then it was probably useless on a
world without any known salt, even in trace quantities. If it could
create salt by combining the constituent elements it was the most
valuable thing on this world. Irena was sure Brad didn't know which
it did.</span></span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
“<span style="font-family: Liberation Serif, serif;"><span style="font-size: small;">You
don't know anything about those devices, they are very rare. It's not
even something they included in my database,” Irena told him, “If
you show that thing to the leader of this planet, he could take it
and have you killed.”</span></span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-family: Liberation Serif, serif;"><span style="font-size: small;">They
reached the capitol, the parking area was guarded by several armed
soldiers, the whole compound was patrolled by heavily armed soldiers.
Irena kept her mouth closed and simply looked straight ahead, playing
her part again.</span></span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
“<span style="font-family: Liberation Serif, serif;"><span style="font-size: small;">What's
your business here?” The soldier asked, looking into the bubble
vehicle at both of them. Then with a glare he checked the proffered
documents and called someone on his wrist radio, the reply sounded
completely garbled but he seemed to understand it.</span></span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
“<span style="font-family: Liberation Serif, serif;"><span style="font-size: small;">I
have come to this planet on salt business,” Brad told the soldier
in charge who made another call on his wrist before waving them
through the gates.</span></span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
“<span style="font-family: Liberation Serif, serif;"><span style="font-size: small;">This
feels like a trap,” Irena said watching the heavy gate slam shut in
the rear-view monitor.</span></span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-family: Liberation Serif, serif;"><span style="font-size: small;">Brad
parked the vehicle and the sides slid open, “Just stand there and
watch me do my magic. I will have the Primero Uno de Dunga eating out
of my palms.'</span></span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-family: Liberation Serif, serif;"><span style="font-size: small;">There
were more guards at the door, but there were soldiers just inside. He
showed the documents again and then whipped out another vial of salt.
Irena noted that he must have pocketed all of the salt vials and
tablets that had been served since they had become a team. He had
always ordered two meals, to make people think she was human.</span></span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-family: Liberation Serif, serif;"><span style="font-size: small;">The
main soldier came out of the door and everyone else stood aside. His
face was red and he eyed the vial of salt that Brad was holding.</span></span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
“<span style="font-family: Liberation Serif, serif;"><span style="font-size: small;">I
am Marshall Hansen, It could be very dangerous to go around
brandishing things like that on Dunga,” the officer said, “I
assume you wish to meet Mr Roberts, but the man doesn't need to make
deals to get hold of salt.”</span></span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-family: Liberation Serif, serif;"><span style="font-size: small;">Brad
shook his head, “No, that's not why I am here. I have brought a
device that could end the salt crisis on Dunga.”</span></span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-family: Liberation Serif, serif;"><span style="font-size: small;">The
soldier nodded, “I have heard that before. Go in and to the right
you'll find a sitting room, stay there until you hear something.”</span></span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-family: Liberation Serif, serif;"><span style="font-size: small;">Brad
and Irena were soon sitting across from each other, with a glass
table between them on which the backpack sat. After a few minutes a
man servant stood in the doorway and said, “The Primero Uno de
Dunga will see you now.”</span></span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-family: Liberation Serif, serif;"><span style="font-size: small;">They
were led into a large ornate glass-topped room full of plants and
trees surrounding a pool of deep blue water. A fat man was swimming
in the pool, but two naked females sat at either end. When he reached
one of the females he rolled over, facing up and was fed some kind of
fruit. Then he rolled his fat naked body over and swam to the other
end where this was repeated.</span></span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
“<span style="font-family: Liberation Serif, serif;"><span style="font-size: small;">Sir,
this is the man who has come about salt,” the man servant said.</span></span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-family: Liberation Serif, serif;"><span style="font-size: small;">The
Primero Uno de Dunga finally noticed them, he smiled and waved. Then
he climbed out of the pool and his two females dried him off and then
wrapped a cloth about his round body. Finally he approached them.</span></span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
“<span style="font-family: Liberation Serif, serif;"><span style="font-size: small;">Welcome,
welcome to Dunga my friend!” The man said, taking Brads hand into
his own in a very friendly greeting, “I understand this is business
about salt?”</span></span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-family: Liberation Serif, serif;"><span style="font-size: small;">Brad
nodded, “I have a device that might solve all of your salt
problems.”</span></span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-family: Liberation Serif, serif;"><span style="font-size: small;">The
Primero Uno led them to a round couch and took a seat behind a desk
that faced it. The jolly man quickly took the facade of a serious
leader. Then he nodded, “Before we begin, I would like to warn you
that Dunga has become averse to false salt merchants, the last two
were hanged. Salt deficiency on Dunga has a high mortality rate from
hyponatremia. It's a nasty health issue, to say the least and the
people here are desperately tired of it.”</span></span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-family: Liberation Serif, serif;"><span style="font-size: small;">Brad
cleared his throat, “This device is the real deal.”</span></span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-family: Liberation Serif, serif;"><span style="font-size: small;">He
pulled it out of the backpack and sat it on the table in front of the
couch. They both watched the device for a long moment before the
Primero Uno spoke up, “So, what does it do?”</span></span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
“<span style="font-family: Liberation Serif, serif;"><span style="font-size: small;">You
have heard of a bio-matrix, right?” Brad asked, “They can be
designed to do some amazing things but it's always very narrow. It
might purify water, or make dead soil fertile again, but it never
does more than one or two things.”</span></span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-family: Liberation Serif, serif;"><span style="font-size: small;">The
fat man wave a hand in the air, “I know what a bio-matrix is.”</span></span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-family: Liberation Serif, serif;"><span style="font-size: small;">Brad
nodded and indicated the device he had set down, “This is one. This
is a bio-matrix. It can use the planets natural atmosphere and
produce salt.”</span></span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-family: Liberation Serif, serif;"><span style="font-size: small;">The
man nodded, “How much salt can it produce in an hour? A day? Under
what conditions does it work?”</span></span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
“<span style="font-family: Liberation Serif, serif;"><span style="font-size: small;">That
all depends on the planet, of course. We could test it and find out.”
</span></span>
</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-family: Liberation Serif, serif;"><span style="font-size: small;">The
fat man leaned back in his seat, “I see. Let us assume that this
device works as advertised, what are you asking for it?”</span></span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-family: Liberation Serif, serif;"><span style="font-size: small;">Brad
thought about it, “Passage on the next ship out of here.”</span></span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-family: Liberation Serif, serif;"><span style="font-size: small;">The
Primero Uno de Dunga laughed, “I suppose, but I rather doubt we see
another trading vessel, or any vessel again in our lifetimes. So
choose something else.”</span></span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
“<span style="font-family: Liberation Serif, serif;"><span style="font-size: small;">Do
you have a ship?” Brad asked,</span></span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-family: Liberation Serif, serif;"><span style="font-size: small;">The
man laughed, “If I had a ship, I would have left Dunga by now.”</span></span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-family: Liberation Serif, serif;"><span style="font-size: small;">Irena
was about to make a suggestion when Brad spoke up again.</span></span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
“<span style="font-family: Liberation Serif, serif;"><span style="font-size: small;">Okay,
just make me one of the richest people on Dunga, then,” Brad told
the man, “Lots of house, a nice yard, women... the works!”</span></span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-family: Liberation Serif, serif;"><span style="font-size: small;">Frederick
Cavendish Roberts laughed and stood up, “This has been
entertaining. I think we need to see the device work before we waste
any more time.”</span></span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-family: Liberation Serif, serif;"><span style="font-size: small;">Brad
stood up and lifted the device.</span></span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
“<span style="font-family: Liberation Serif, serif;"><span style="font-size: small;">Nearly
half the people on this world are suffering from low-salt levels,
fifteen percent of the population are in hospitals. Hyponatremia is a
scourge for the people of Dunga, and we take these things very
seriously,” The fat man said as they followed him through a
corridor and then outside. Soon enough they reached a pond, mostly
surrounded by high weeds and trees.</span></span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
“<span style="font-family: Liberation Serif, serif;"><span style="font-size: small;">Here
we are, the ideal location for a demonstration,” The leader of
Dunga said, “So activate the device or this will be your
execution.”</span></span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-family: Liberation Serif, serif;"><span style="font-size: small;">Brad
set the device on the ground, a bald place amidst the grass. Then he
tapped some of the flat screen icons and there was a high-pitched
whine that sounded like it ascending higher and higher. Then it
became a deep, low tone that sounded like it was descending until it
stopped and there were some electronic beeps.</span></span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
“<span style="font-family: Liberation Serif, serif;"><span style="font-size: small;">It
is activated,” Brad said, sounding a bit relieved.</span></span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-family: Liberation Serif, serif;"><span style="font-size: small;">The
Primero Uno de Dunga watched the device for a moment, “So how long
should we wait?”</span></span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-family: Liberation Serif, serif;"><span style="font-size: small;">Brad
shrugged, “It wasn't designed for this planet, but it is similar
enough that it should work. That freighter wasn't going to make it to
the destination.”</span></span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
“<span style="font-family: Liberation Serif, serif;"><span style="font-size: small;">I
suppose we shall make a picnic of it then,” The fat man said and
called his man servant, “Fetch a nice picnic, the good wine and
send my girls with blankets and pillows.”</span></span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-family: Liberation Serif, serif;"><span style="font-size: small;">Before
long a spread of food was before them and Brad ate as he watched the
device. Irena looked toward the pond to avoid watching the fat man
cavorting with his two female slaves right out in the open. The
giggles and his laughs disturbed her programming, which considered
any kind of slavery to be an injustice.</span></span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-family: Liberation Serif, serif;"><span style="font-size: small;">The
sun had gone down but the area was well-lighted.</span></span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
“<span style="font-family: Liberation Serif, serif;"><span style="font-size: small;">It's
working!” Brad said, “It has finished calibrating to the
atmospheric conditions. It says here that it needs to have one end of
its hose, in the back compartment, in the water and someone needs to
keep adding sand into the top compartment. It can produce more than
ten vials of salt in an hour.”</span></span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-family: Liberation Serif, serif;"><span style="font-size: small;">The
leader of Dunga was quiet, “That's not much. We'll try keeping it
operating all day and night, I suppose and see. Still, I'd be
surprised if it can produce as much as we can from urine or sweat.
Every bit helps, though.”</span></span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-family: Liberation Serif, serif;"><span style="font-size: small;">The
man stood up and wrapped the sheet around his body again, the girls
wiping off the bits of grass for him.</span></span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
“<span style="font-family: Liberation Serif, serif;"><span style="font-size: small;">I
don't suppose you'll be executed as a fraud, after all,” Primero
Uno de Dunga said, “but your android might be a problem.”</span></span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-family: Liberation Serif, serif;"><span style="font-size: small;">Brad
looked shocked.</span></span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
“<span style="font-family: Liberation Serif, serif;"><span style="font-size: small;">She
didn't even look at the food, she hasn't had a bite since you
arrived,” he told Brad, “If the device continues to work, I might
look away for a while. If anyone else finds out she is artificial,
then there will be some trouble.”</span></span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-family: Liberation Serif, serif;"><span style="font-size: small;">Soon
he and Irena were sitting near the device as it continued to perform,
a soldier came and stood nearby. Obviously he was there to guard the
bio-matrix.</span></span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
“<span style="font-family: Liberation Serif, serif;"><span style="font-size: small;">We
should not have come here,” Irena told him.</span></span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
“<span style="font-family: Liberation Serif, serif;"><span style="font-size: small;">We
probably should not have left Rigelus VII,” Brad told her.</span></span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
“<span style="font-family: Liberation Serif, serif;"><span style="font-size: small;">Don't
be foolish, we would be dead by now if we had stayed. That whole
place is one big atrocity now.”</span></span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-family: Liberation Serif, serif;"><span style="font-size: small;">He
smiled, “If we had stayed on the freighter, we'd probably be
floating amidst space debris by now.”</span></span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-family: Liberation Serif, serif;"><span style="font-size: small;">Irena
was quiet as Brad checked the machine again. </span></span>
</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
“<span style="font-family: Liberation Serif, serif;"><span style="font-size: small;">The
bio-matrix is interesting. It takes some elements from the soil and
some from the water to make salt. If this device had reached Flaxus,
the leftover would have been a silicate that could be used to make
electronics,” Brad told her, she was studying the stars. He leaned
closer and said in a lower voice, “Don't you want to know what's
left over on Dunga?”</span></span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-family: Liberation Serif, serif;"><span style="font-size: small;">Irena
shook her head, “If it isn't inter-spatial crystal, then what's the
point?”</span></span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-family: Liberation Serif, serif;"><span style="font-size: small;">Brad
laughed, “That's just wishful thinking, very human. No, the
leftover of this process on Dunga, is an explosive-fuel sort of
thing. I suppose it has its possible uses.”</span></span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
“<span style="font-family: Liberation Serif, serif;"><span style="font-size: small;">Such
as?” Irena asked.</span></span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
“<span style="font-family: Liberation Serif, serif;"><span style="font-size: small;">Such
as mining asteroids,” He told her, “Sure the life support system
on the shuttle-pod is breaking down, but an android wouldn't mind.
Right?”</span></span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-family: Liberation Serif, serif;"><span style="font-size: small;">She
looked at him like he had lost his mind.</span></span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
“<span style="font-family: Liberation Serif, serif;"><span style="font-size: small;">We
have to earn our keep here. There are things in those asteroids that
can't be found on this dirt ball and would be valuable,” he told
her, “Besides, I want to build things and explore this desert
planet while we're here.”</span></span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-family: Liberation Serif, serif;"><span style="font-size: small;">Irena
shook her head, “This world is dying. It seems pointless.”</span></span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-family: Liberation Serif, serif;"><span style="font-size: small;">Brad
sighed, “I'm human. I want to survive, I want to scratch and claw
for an extra day if I must, I guess giving up is an android thing.
Humans on Dunga can survive, I don't know how many or in what kind of
condition, but humanity needs to fight.”</span></span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-family: Liberation Serif, serif;"><span style="font-size: small;">Irena
nodded, “Then do that. We both know that interstellar space travel
for humans is a thing of the past, now. Very few worlds have the
population, economics and technology to keep exploring their own
solar system, small worlds like this one are completely isolated.
When Earth and Terra Delta were lost, it was all over, it just took
some time for it to be noticed.”</span></span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-family: Liberation Serif, serif;"><span style="font-size: small;">Brad
said nothing.</span></span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
“<span style="font-family: Liberation Serif, serif;"><span style="font-size: small;">The
human species is about to become very primitive. It could be
centuries before the human race, if it survives, will travel the
stars again. So, by all means, send your android to break rocks.”</span></span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-family: Liberation Serif, serif;"><span style="font-size: small;">Brad
laid flat on his back, “We have salt. We can survive in some form.
Surviving right now, is the most important thing. Humans will be
back, eventually!”</span></span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
</div>
GeronLhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13145189615256636055noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5787869099782509690.post-23750291353037352212016-07-04T09:17:00.000-07:002016-07-04T09:17:15.344-07:00Escape From the Free Republic - Chapter Eleven<a href="http://flscifi.blogspot.com/p/book-page.html">My Books Page</a><br />
<span style="font-size: x-small;"><a href="http://flscifi.blogspot.com/2016/06/escape-from-free-republic-chapter-ten.html">Chapter Ten</a></span><br />
<div style="text-align: center;">
<b><br /></b></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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<br />
<style type="text/css">P { margin-bottom: 0.08in; }</style>
<br />
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: center;">
<b>Chapter Eleven</b></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: center;">
<b> </b><br />
</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
“<span style="font-family: Liberation Serif, serif;"><i>The
other ships are moving closer to defend the carrier!</i>” someone
reported over the coms.</span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
“<span style="font-family: Liberation Serif, serif;">It
doesn't matter, it's too late,” Tom told them, “Remember to get
far away once we are deployed.”</span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-family: Liberation Serif, serif;">Tom
turn to the rebel soldiers who were with him. All of them were
getting into place to leave the ship as fast as they could. As soon
as the rear hatch opened they would use the thrusters on their suits
to propel themselves toward the carrier.</span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
“<span style="font-family: Liberation Serif, serif;"><i>Team
Two here, we're ready</i>” The soldier named Skyler reported from
the second ship.</span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
“<span style="font-family: Liberation Serif, serif;"><i>Prepare
for dynamic exit!</i>” The pilot told them.</span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-family: Liberation Serif, serif;">Suddenly,
the ship rolled fast enough for them to feel it and the back hatch
opened. Seeing that the carrier was right in front of them, Tom
activated his thrusters and led the others across the short space to
the carriers' outer hull.</span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
“<span style="font-family: Liberation Serif, serif;"><i>This
is Team Two, we've made it to entry point, all hands safe.</i>”</span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
“<span style="font-family: Liberation Serif, serif;">All
ships, time to get lost!” Tom said over the coms. A rupture in
metal covering of one of the cargo bays was just big enough for them
to get through one by one. There were a few crates in the dark
chamber but there was no sign of anyone.</span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
“<span style="font-family: Liberation Serif, serif;">I
guess they don't know we're here yet.” One of his men said.</span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-family: Liberation Serif, serif;">Tom
brought up a diagram of the carrier on his HUD. “Okay, we need to
move upwards about four decks. We'll be close to the power
distribution node then. There is a lift out that hatch and about 50
meters down the corridor to the right.”</span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-family: Liberation Serif, serif;">The
hatch refused to open because the cargo bay had been pressurized.
Then Tom Grier cursed himself for not thinking of this problem, and
led the team to the far side of the cargo bay to where a cargo
control room could be used like an air-lock. That was one stupid
mistake, but they had lost very little time and nobody died.</span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-family: Liberation Serif, serif;">As
the air in the cargo control room pressurized Tom pulled the QBR-44
off of the back of his armored suit, the other men drew their own
weapons as well. </span>
</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
“<span style="font-family: Liberation Serif, serif;"><i>This
is Skyler, I examined the wreckage that lodged into the observation
deck, there were no survivors</i>.” </span>
</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
“<span style="font-family: Liberation Serif, serif;">Roger,
watch the time. Get to that forward power distro node ASAP,” Tom
said into the coms, “It's all been mapped out.”</span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
“<span style="font-family: Liberation Serif, serif;"><i>Copy!</i>”</span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-family: Liberation Serif, serif;">The
corridor outside of the cargo control room looked abandoned. Tom
detected some heat signatures in a small chamber at the end. If they
weren't armed or armored, then they aren't to be killed. Still, you
need to keep an eye on them.</span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
“<span style="font-family: Liberation Serif, serif;">We
need to move as fast as possible. 50 meters to the lift, but we're
taking the stairs on the other side of the corridor instead. Four
decks up and we will near the target. You all know the drill, it
should only take one of us to reach it,” Tom Grier told the others.</span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-family: Liberation Serif, serif;">The
hatch opened and Tom was the first one out, his men covered both
sides with their weapons as they made their way toward the stairs.
The Free Republic Marines could reach them in minutes, so they had to
hurry.</span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-family: Liberation Serif, serif;">Oddly
they were able to reach the stairs without seeing any opposition
whatsoever, which made Tom more worried. Where were they? As soon as
Tom looked around the corner into the stairwell two unarmored
security officers opened fire with small arms. The armor wasn't even
penetrated.</span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-family: Liberation Serif, serif;">One
of his men, Felix something, went around Tom and blasted the two
security officers. One shot each was all it took and they went down
like a sack of potatoes. Felix started up the stairs first, looking
to get first the glimpse of any more opposition.</span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
“<span style="font-family: Liberation Serif, serif;">Something
is coming. Hang back,” Felix said, backing against the wall.
Suddenly a drone dropped down from above. A flashing, pulsating light
was all Tom could see, his suit tried to block this visual
interference as he tried to aim his big gun in the tight corridor. It
was useless so he swung at it, knocking the drone to the side where
it bounced off the wall. The drone started firing small rounds at
them but was dispatched by return fire.</span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
“<span style="font-family: Liberation Serif, serif;">That
was annoying,” Felix said as he started moving upwards again. At
the landing of the next deck they were fired upon by unarmored
security officers again. These guys were more numerous but hiding
behind the corners.</span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-family: Liberation Serif, serif;">The
first thing that hit them was stun grenades that had no effect
through their powered armor. The opposition was far too light and
pathetic so far. The small arms fire was no real threat, but you
can't just waltz past them and let them keep harassing your six.</span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-family: Liberation Serif, serif;">Tom
designated grenade rounds and wanted to bounce them around the corner
when two more wailing, flashing drones dropped from the upper
stairwell. He heard Felix mutter something as the men started to
return fire.</span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
“<span style="font-family: Liberation Serif, serif;">Grenade!”
Tom warned as he fired two of them, one to each side of the corridor.
The blast was loud, even through the helmet and parts of the walls
and ceiling in the corridor simply collapsed. The old carrier was
never designed to see battles on the inside.</span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
“<span style="font-family: Liberation Serif, serif;"><i>Light
opposition, we are three decks above designated target.” </i><span style="font-style: normal;">Skyler
reported in.</span></span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-family: Liberation Serif, serif;">Obviously,
most of the Marines were on the surface of Sync, but Tom knew that at
least two platoons were kept as reserve or guards aboard the carrier.
This normally included “A Squad” which was kind of legendary to
new recruits. It was said the best Marines would be assigned to the
squad, but Tom was no longer connected to the “hive mind”, as he
now thought of it. To him, the best and most remorseless killers were
rewarded by being moved into A Squad. Of course, he had no experience
with all of that inside stuff since he had spent no real time in it
before being captured by the rebels.</span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-family: Liberation Serif, serif;">They
moved up the stairwell faster this time. Tom did not know how long it
would take for the Marines to show up, but he was sure they would
eventually.</span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
“<span style="font-family: Liberation Serif, serif;">You
don't suppose they know where we're going do you?” Felix asked,
“They might be setting up a trap for us.”</span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
“<span style="font-family: Liberation Serif, serif;">That
is one possibility,” Tom admitted, “But it doesn't seem like
something they'd do. Why let us ransack the ship all the way there,
knowing we'd be tearing through their security?”</span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-family: Liberation Serif, serif;">Then
he remembered that the Marine brass and the fleet brass seemed to be
at odds. The Marine General really had been arresting those fleet
agents back in Valla. Maybe crazy Admiral Jim Robinson wouldn't
approve letting the Marines battle Tom's boarding party? That
wouldn't make sense, though. General Gallant wouldn't follow any
orders like that from the Admiral.</span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
“<span style="font-family: Liberation Serif, serif;"><i>Team
Two here, no sign of enemy armor. All kinds of fleet personnel hiding
in their quarters.”</i> Skyler reported.</span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
“<span style="font-family: Liberation Serif, serif;">Same
here,” Tom replied. It was unnerving. </span>
</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-family: Liberation Serif, serif;"><b>Free
Republic carrier Umbrage, Marines Command & Control Room</b></span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
“<span style="font-family: Liberation Serif, serif;">General,
we have rebel activity flaring up all over Sync!” Maggie Anders
reported.</span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-family: Liberation Serif, serif;">General
Gallant checked the large holographic image of the planet revolving
above the center of the room, sure enough symbols of fighting and
attacks were all over it. The engagement reports had been coming in
fast and furious since the attack on the Umbrage began.</span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
“<span style="font-family: Liberation Serif, serif;">Drone
attacks at Fort Marsh being reported. The drones are simply diving at
the base and exploding just before they reach the ground!” a male
controller on the far side of the room announced. </span>
</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
“<span style="font-family: Liberation Serif, serif;">Forward
Support Base Mandarin is requesting aerial support!” another said
and then added, “I'm unable to contact Onyx Flight!”</span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-family: Liberation Serif, serif;">General
Gallant walked to Colonel Mortimer, “Looks like we have a rebel
uprising.”</span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-family: Liberation Serif, serif;">The
shorter man nodded, “Yes, it does. These are almost all stand-off
or hit and run attacks, though. Almost like they are trying to
distract us.”</span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-family: Liberation Serif, serif;">Gallant
thought about this, “Do you think the rebels were able to board the
Umbrage?” </span>
</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
“<span style="font-family: Liberation Serif, serif;">Normally,
I would laugh in your face for asking such a question, if you'll beg
my pardon sir. Under the circumstances, though, I think it's likely,”
Mortimer answered.</span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
“<span style="font-family: Liberation Serif, serif;">You
can speak freely with me, Colonel,” Gallant told him. Then after a
moment he shook his head, “You don't suppose the rebels knew that
Admiral Robinson had blocked us from leaving our area of the ship, do
you?”</span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-family: Liberation Serif, serif;">Mortimer
shook his in the negative, “The Admiral is going to be mighty
pissed, just when they need us most he himself has barricaded us
away.”</span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-family: Liberation Serif, serif;">Gallant
sighed, “Take some men in armor and try to get passed one of the
barricades. We need to at least try and defend this ship.”</span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
“<span style="font-family: Liberation Serif, serif;">Aye,
sir!”</span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-family: Liberation Serif, serif;">Then
the General started toward the controllers, “Order Main Base in
Sally sector to send defense drones to Forward Operating Base Mako
and Forward Support Base Mandarin. They have a dozen of the things,
it time we started using them.”</span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
“<span style="font-family: Liberation Serif, serif;">Aye
Sir” said one of the controllers.</span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
“<span style="font-family: Liberation Serif, serif;">Okay,
new general order. Order our drone bases to take over all aerial
operations, we can't depend on Onyx flight any more,” General
Gallant told them.</span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
“<span style="font-family: Liberation Serif, serif;">Aye
Sir!” several of them responded.</span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-family: Liberation Serif, serif;">He
walked to Maggie Anders, who was trying to get some reinforcements to
her sector.</span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
“<span style="font-family: Liberation Serif, serif;">Anders,
if this ship has been boarded, it is likely led by someone who has
Marine armor, if you get my point. I'm thinking that Tom Grier could
be on-board making mischief,” he told her, getting her full
attention, “I want you to try and contact his suit. Not the
implants, they were removed. If you can get his attention, I want to
talk to him directly.”</span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
“<span style="font-family: Liberation Serif, serif;">Yes,
sir. I'll try!” she answered.</span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-family: Liberation Serif, serif;">The
General didn't really have a plan, but there was one coming together.</span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-family: Liberation Serif, serif;">Colonel
Mortimer was coming back. He reported,“That barricade is pretty
solid, we might break through if we have enough time. I'm thinking we
send some of our guys out the airlock to get in on the fleet side.”</span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
“<span style="font-family: Liberation Serif, serif;">If
we can't contact the Admiral's people, then we don't know if
Robinson's people would open the airlocks in their area for us.”</span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
“<span style="font-family: Liberation Serif, serif;">That
is true,” The Colonel answered, “Just try it if you need to.”</span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-family: Liberation Serif, serif;"><b>Free
Republic carrier <i>Umbrage</i>, Bridge</b></span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-family: Liberation Serif, serif;">Admiral
James “Jim” Robinson was red-faced. He had been screaming to get
ship security weapons and whatever needed to stop the boarding party.
Unfortunately ship security did not have heavy armor or the weapons
to stop it. They didn't normally have access to weapons that would
tear through the hull of a ship, for obvious reasons.</span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
“<span style="font-family: Liberation Serif, serif;">Throw
up new barricades!” He ordered.</span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
“<span style="font-family: Liberation Serif, serif;">We
don't have any more, we would need to get them from one of the other
ships, maybe the <i>Hugh</i> or <i>Sirius</i>. That would take a lot
of time though,” one of the other officers reported.</span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
“<span style="font-family: Liberation Serif, serif;">Unblock
the barricades and let the Marines do their damned jobs then!” He
roared.</span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
“<span style="font-family: Liberation Serif, serif;">Those
barricades are extremely hard to remove once they have been set,”
came the answer, which infuriated him even more. To some of the men
and women cringing on the bridge it looked like he might literally
explode, some of them thought this would be a good thing.</span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
“<span style="font-family: Liberation Serif, serif;">Grabble!”
The Admiral called the Commander who had been pretending to be busy
doing something else that was “urgent”.</span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
“<span style="font-family: Liberation Serif, serif;">Sir<span style="font-family: Liberation Serif, serif;">?</span>”
</span>
</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
“<span style="font-family: Liberation Serif, serif;">I
want you to lead a team to the forward power distribution node and
set explosives at all of the entrances. We must stop them from taking
out those nodes!” The Admiral said, “If it wasn't for those
traitors, the enemy would have never known about those weaknesses.”</span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-family: Liberation Serif, serif;">Commander
Grabble wanted to point out that the power distribution nodes were
buried deep within the ship and weren't really “weaknesses” if
the enemy had been stopped from getting to them. As space ship
designs go, the carrier was a virtual fortress.</span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
“<span style="font-family: Liberation Serif, serif;">Also
give the order to the fleet to prepare for another surface
bombardment, tell them not to launch without my explicit orders
though.”</span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-family: Liberation Serif, serif;">The
Commander was shocked that the Admiral would even think of using
those again, unless he knew where the enemy ships were located.</span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
“<span style="font-family: Liberation Serif, serif;">I'll
have them on stand-by, but I don't know how many penetrators are
left. We used quite a lot of them taking out that under-mountain
base.”</span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
“<span style="font-family: Liberation Serif, serif;">Good,”
Then to another officer the Admiral said, “Have the <i>Hugh</i> and
<i>Sirius</i> move in closer, let us make sure that the boarding
party never gets a ride home.”</span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
“<span style="font-family: Liberation Serif, serif;">Yes,
sir!”</span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-family: Liberation Serif, serif;">Meanwhile
Commander Grabble was on his way to change into light armor while
calling some of the security team to gather with him. They would be
setting explosives aboard the ship to try and stop the enemy boarding
team.</span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-family: Liberation Serif, serif;"><b>Marine
Tech Ship, <i>Dispensation</i></b></span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-family: Liberation Serif, serif;">Lt.
Edwards and his men had mostly cleaned up the blood and bodies. The
damage to the ship itself was extensive but they managed to get basic
functions routed to some terminals in one of the aft compartments.</span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-family: Liberation Serif, serif;">External
sensors had been linked to the Marines aboard the <i>Umbrage</i>, but
finding out what had happened inside <i>Dispensation</i> had taken
too long. Finally, though, they had scraped enough sensor data to
discover where the stolen Mark IV armor had been taken.</span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
“<span style="font-family: Liberation Serif, serif;">Patch
me into General Gallant, immediately!” Edwards ordered.</span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
“<span style="font-family: Liberation Serif, serif;">I'll
try.”</span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-family: Liberation Serif, serif;">After
two minutes he was speaking to his superior,</span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
“<span style="font-family: Liberation Serif, serif;">It
seems that whoever stole the Mark IV is aboard the <i>Umbrage</i>!”
Edwards reported, “That person has already slaughtered Free
Republic personnel, they are a danger to anyone they come across.”</span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-family: Liberation Serif, serif;">General
Gallant rubbed his face, “I've heard nothing corresponding to what
happened on <i>Dispensation</i>, might be that this person is after
something.”</span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-family: Liberation Serif, serif;">Edwards
looked around, “That person is a killing machine, without a soul of
any kind. Anyone who could kill all the helpless people on this ship
can do the same there.”</span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
“<span style="font-family: Liberation Serif, serif;">Thank
you, I'll try to do something about it.”</span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-family: Liberation Serif, serif;">The
connection was cut.</span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-family: Liberation Serif, serif;">-------------</span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-family: Liberation Serif, serif;"><a href="http://flscifi.blogspot.com/p/book-page.html">My Books Page </a></span></div>
GeronLhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13145189615256636055noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5787869099782509690.post-31693127118153364922016-06-29T19:37:00.001-07:002016-06-29T19:37:44.773-07:00Playing with Blender<br />
<br />
Over in a Facebook Group for Space Opera writers someone posted about a new python script for Blender that gives you random spaceships. I haven't figured out the nuances but I have been playing with it a bit.<br />
<br />
It can be found here: <a href="https://github.com/a1studmuffin/SpaceshipGenerator/">https://github.com/a1studmuffin/SpaceshipGenerator/</a><br />
<br />
I don't know if it works on Windows machines.<br />
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After Rendering an image (mine won't render backgrounds for some reason) I use GIMP to add background and other things. I have a long way to go to be proficient in using Blender, I am a total talentless noob at it, but I still like what I can do with it.<br />
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GeronLhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13145189615256636055noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5787869099782509690.post-72549752435982390152016-06-28T02:43:00.003-07:002016-06-28T02:43:54.994-07:00The Rebel, a short story<div style="text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<h3 style="text-align: center;">
The Rebel</h3>
<div style="text-align: center;">
Floyd Looney</div>
<br /><br />Fifteen-year-old Bradley walked the docks before and after school because taking the bus was boring and this was much more scenic. The sights, sounds, smells and tastes were the stuff of life, not words on the page of a textbook. This way he could have sushi for breakfast from a vendor or just a steamed bun filled with a variety of meat or vegetables.<br /><br />The docks were the best place for fresh seafood but far more than seafood was usually available from the many vendors there. Small trading ships from nearby nations would often stop to unload stacks of clothing or whatever they happened to have. Often these ships were on their way north to the larger markets, and decided that Fortron was a good place to make a stop. Small traders were charged nothing to sell their wares.<br /><br />School would soon be out for the summer and Brad wanted a summer job. He wanted to work on the docks if at all possible. He wasn't a little kid anymore and he would need and want things than a meager allowance could not buy. Brad didn't have any definite plans for the money, but there was always something. <br /><br />A whole summer of possibilities was in front of him and for the first time he could travel anywhere in the tiny country and his mother wouldn't worry. He was big enough to take care of himself and several years of taekwondo reinforced that.<br /><br />Brad purchased some hot sweet potatoes and steamed meat buns to take home with him, as he scarfed down some oily kimbap from its aluminum foil wrapper. Not too far from the docks he entered the three-story building and climbed the steps to the top where he shared a one bedroom unit with his mother.<br /><br />“Mom, are you home?”<br /><br />She was sprawled on the couch half asleep. This was how he normally found her after school, worn out and tired from working since four in the morning. He put the bags down on the table next to the kitchenette and walked back to his mother and pulled her shoes off, tossing them toward the door.<br /><br />Brad wanted to take care of his mother some day, but he didn't know how that could happen. It wasn't like he was intelligent, definitely not the nerdy type who would own half the country one day. Brad would have to find his own way, whatever that might be.<br /><br />“I've got some baked sweet potatoes and steamed buns, mom!” He said in a loud whisper as he walked back to the table and slipped off his backpack. He took a textbook and a notebook out quietly and started working on his homework. Brad didn't like to disturb his mother, he knew how hard she worked cleaning at the hotel or hospital. She was sent to one or the other depending on the day.<br /><br />Fortron was a small country situated on an isthmus connecting larger continents to the south and north, both of which had several countries of their own. The southern continent was full of corrupt, backward nations while the northern nations were more prosperous but morally bankrupt. Along the isthmus itself most of the small countries were poor and corrupt as well, but Fortron was not one of them. There wasn't enough government in Fortron to become corrupt. There would be nobody to pass the blame to.<br /><br />The tiny nation of Fortron was first settled by some very wealthy people fleeing from their oppressive governments. They willingly pooled much of their fortunes to make their dream a reality, since then the tiny nation grew into a real, although small, free democratic country.<br /><br />Brad had fallen asleep on his open history book. Glancing at the clock he saw that it was about to become dark and his mother was stirring. She rolled herself off the couch and stood up to stretch, “I smell sweet potatoes.”<br /><br />“Also steamed buns, but they're probably cold by now,” Brad told her.<br /><br />She sat on the far side of the table and pulled out a steamed bun and a sweet potato, “I'm hungry enough to eat them cold. It doesn't bother me.”<br /><br />Brad closed the history book and looked at his mother seriously, “I'm going to try and find a job for the summer.”<br /><br />“Really? What sort of job?” She asked, chewing.<br /><br />He shrugged, “I don't know. I'm just starting to think about it, I'll spend all day tomorrow looking around I guess.”<br /><br />Brad's mother stopped eating, “Forget it, I'll give you extra spending money. Have you been to the arcade recently?”<br /><br />He grinned and shook his head, amused she was trying to talk him out of it by changing the subject, but his mind was made up.<br /><br />“Mom, I don't want to go to the arcade unless it's hiring for the summer,” He told her. Actually he would avoid it like the plague. He didn't like to be reminded how poor they were by seeing so many people throwing their money around on such trivial things. Sure the two-level go-kart race track seemed kind of cool, but he didn't want to pay twenty yang for a ten-minute thrill.<br /><br />“Bus money, then.”<br /><br />Brad laughed for real, “I never ride the bus. This country is small enough to walk across in half a day, and the city has a nice pedestrian park going through the center.”<br /><br />“You know I get worried, Brad.”<br /><br />He shook his head, “I'm fifteen now, we talked about this.”<br /><br />Brad's mother sighed, seeming to deflate, “I suppose so, then.”<br /><br />In his head Brad heard the voice of his favorite comedian, Dante Loyola, “And that Brad, is the last argument you'll ever win with a female!”<br /><br />Brad bit into one of the sweet potatoes, “We should warm these up.”<br /><br />“We really should,” She agreed, about to stand up but Brad beat her to it.<br /><br />…<br /><br />Bradley checked the back page of the <i>Fortron Daily</i> but found nothing that sounded remotely suited to him. It occurred to him that most businesses weren't going to spend money placing ads for summer jobs for youths unless they were desperate.<br /><br />He only barely noted the headline on the front page as he sat on a bench near the docks, watching and listening to the hustle and bustle of the place. The docks were alive and being around it made him feel alive too. Brad decided to check out the sports pages near the back, he planned to throw it away before he headed toward the “downtown” area to inquire about employment.<br /><br /><i>Tegucigalpa's goalie hurt in training accident! Belmopan still not favored to win match tomorrow.</i><br /><br />He yawned as he closed the paper and looked around for the wastebasket. The headline finally caught Brads eye.<br /><br /><i>Talks with NAU break down. International mediators continue to work for peace.</i><br /><br />Brad did not understand international diplomacy. He did know that the northern countries liked to throw their weight around more than they should. They were the big gorilla and trade pacts usually favored them over the small, poorer nations.<br /><br />The NAU's threats of war was all bluster anyway, just a ploy to get more trade concessions in all probability. They did not like that Fortron didn't tax foreign bank deposits, accusing the country of being a haven for tax cheats. Brad, like everyone else in the country, scoffed at this, their government was far too honest for that.<br /><br />In all fact, the politicians were probably too honest. They never promised anything but stability and fiscal responsibility. They never pretended that the country had more money to spend that it really did. Elections for the 9-seat Governing Council were boring, the country didn't even have real political parties they were more like clubs with membership dues.<br /><br />The idea that the NAU would really go to war with Fortron was laughable. Fortron didn't have an army, it barely had a coast guard. It had a single runway airport and not a single fighter jet in its possession. There was literally no chance that Fortron was going to war.<br /><br />Some of the older people seemed worried, though. They seemed to think the NAU might really invade. After all its army alone had ten times more soldiers than Fortron had people, there would be no way an attack could be resisted.<br /><br />Brad went from business to business asking about a summer job. He remembered they seemed plentiful a year ago when he had been too young. Now it seemed that business owners were worried too. He might really have to apply at the arcade after all.<br /><br />It was a lot cooler in the shade as he sat on a park bench eating an ice cream, making his worries melt away for a few minutes. Just then he heard stomping and looked up to see a dozen armed men in uniforms jogging by. The Militia very rarely trained inside of the city itself, so some people did stare after they jogged by.<br /><br />…<br /><br />Brad got home and collapsed in the living room chair. His mother was snoring lightly on the couch, still wearing her uniform from work. He had put in applications and thought a couple of places might actually call him back for interviews. Nothing was certain though.<br /><br />Brad turned on the television and turned the volume down a bit, so as not to disturb his mother. He was trying to catch the rerun of the Good Night Show because Dante Loyola had been scheduled to appear. It soon became apparent that the rerun had been preempted by news.<br /><br />“These startling video images are dominating the newscasts of the NAU tonight,” the anchor spoke as images of large groups of soldiers and armored vehicles marched across the screen. Then there was “file footage” of aircraft destroying targets on the ground, although they looked destroyed already to Brad, “Reports are coming in from different sources that NAU military forces and equipment are being moved in an unusual manner. There were no scheduled large-scale training maneuvers, but something big is happening.”<br /><br />The anchor turned to a gray-haired guest analyst, “Mr. Hernandez, you have experience as a diplomatic envoy to many countries, what is the sense you have tonight? Is this all just saber-rattling by the NAU, or is more going on?”<br /><br />“Well, Diego, I would love to be proven wrong, but I think the NAU is intent on forcing Fortron to accept its terms.”<br /><br />The anchor nodded as half the screen listed some of the demands, the anchor spoke, “Our government says these demands are simply outrageous.”<br /><br />“Diego, I agree with that sentiment completely. What the NAU is asking is a violation of our national sovereignty in the guise of 'fair trade'. In real terms what they want is mercantilism, which forces us to sell our products while buying their products is artificially more expensive. The kicker is that it would lock us in, we would not be able to find these products for a better price.”<br /><br />The anchor turned to the other direction, “Nancy Roberts is the newest member of the Governing Council,” the host introduced a woman in her late thirties with a wrinkle-free face, “How does our country survive this move by the NAU? Will they really invade if we do not accept their ultimatum?”<br /><br />The woman frowned, “Obviously we cannot fight their industrial war machine, we have no real military force. Their big city police forces are better armed than our militia. I think we should calm the situation down, the idea of war over this is ludicrous. Go back to the peace table, be reasonable, I' sure some compromise can be had.”<br /><br />Soon another video full of “file footage” appeared, “The NAU Naval Forces include these floating air bases, the modern aircraft carrier. Capable of carrying sixty fighters, bombers and helicopters and able to carry out a heavy schedule of aerial warfare, a single carrier and its associated fleet has more firepower than all of the countries of the isthmus combined. There is talk that this fleet carrier will be joined with a smaller flattop that is able to land an entire Marine Expeditionary Unit on our shores in a short time.”<br /><br />Brad was stunned. He could not begin to understand why the NAU would want to pick on a tiny nation like Fortron. Even if their country really was a bad country, so were thirty others in the region. How was the NAU being harmed by anything Fortron was doing?<br /><br />Just seeing it on television the awesome military power made the Fortron militia look like the meter maids he had seen in some NAU movies. He had also seen documentaries enough to know what a country looks like after a war. Brad didn't believe it might happen to him.<br /><br />He turned the television off as his mother woke up, “Mom, let's go out for ice cream.”<br /><br />“Ice cream?”<br /><br />Brad gave his mother a hug, “It's been a long time since we've gone out and spent time together.”<br /><br />She smiled and then looked at what she wearing, dirty work clothes, “Let me change real quick.”<br /><br />Brad wanted to forget it, forget what he had seen on television, just for a few hours. They walked toward the docks as night fell, eating ice cream and watching the lights of the boats out at sea. You can see a lot of stars in Fortron, it wasn't even a big city. <br /><br />If war came, this tiny nation would be devastated. No matter what the country he had grown up in would be gone forever, and not in a good way. Brad knew that Fortron had no chance in a fight, but maybe if there was a guerrilla army somewhere to fight in unconventional ways. Some way to rebel and make it painful for the NAU in the long run.<br /><br />Brad wanted there to be one, because he was going to join it.GeronLhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13145189615256636055noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5787869099782509690.post-23130799250540682562016-06-24T15:38:00.002-07:002016-07-04T09:18:51.363-07:00Escape From the Free Republic - Chapter Ten<span style="font-size: xx-small;"><a href="http://flscifi.blogspot.com/2016/06/escape-from-free-republic-chapter-nine.html"> Chapter Nine</a></span><br />
<span style="font-size: xx-small;"><a href="http://flscifi.blogspot.com/p/book-page.html">My Books</a><a href="http://flscifi.blogspot.com/p/book-page.html"> Page</a></span><br />
<br />
<span style="color: red;"><span style="font-size: x-small;">(Kemdra, Kembra.. whichever, it's a rough draft!)</span></span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "liberation" serif , serif;"><b>Chapter
Ten</b></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "liberation" serif , serif;">The
underground train traveled a great distance around Sync until it was
underneath part of one of the two great seas of the planet. The Free
Republic had never known about the train, it was a recent development
and there were very few of them. They didn't need infrastructure such
as rails or tunnels, they seemed to be analogous to bending space but
on a small scale. Tom Grier didn't really understand it, but he was
trying to think about something else.</span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-family: "liberation" serif , serif;">Sync
had fooled the Free Republic into thinking it had destroyed its
entire fleet of ships. The only ships that Sync possessed were the
type that landed on planets, nothing like the monstrous warships such
as the carrier <i>Umbrage</i> that stalked it at that moment. Instead
the Free Republic had destroyed aging, mothballed ships that had been
remodeled to fool sensor scans, seeming to be the newer ships.</span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-family: "liberation" serif , serif;">Those
newer ships had been hidden, mostly under the ocean. The ships were
being prepared by the rebel forces for what Tom thought was a suicide
mission. Not only were they to get close enough to attack the
<i>Umbrage</i>, but to board it and cripple or destroy it. A tall
order to be sure, but one that Tom did not think could possibly come
to fruition, even with the rebel technologies.</span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-family: "liberation" serif , serif;">Tom
and the other soldiers were not wearing their powered-armor suits,
which had been stored in their own train car. Kembra and Sandy had
been spending a lot of time chatting and giggling, still acting like
girls even in these circumstances. Their father, Enoch, came around
every so often with tea or snacks. It was hard to believe that the
figure-head of Syncrian independence was acting like a servant aboard
the train.</span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-family: "liberation" serif , serif;">Finally
Enoch sat next to Tom. “Well, we are going to be arriving at the
destination soon and I was thinking that you should be the one to
lead the attack,” the old man said.</span></div>
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<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
“<span style="font-family: "liberation" serif , serif;">I'm
not a leader, I've only just become part of the rebellion. Besides, I
think the attack is probably still a bad idea,” Tom told him,
“Sandy is group leader.”</span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-family: "liberation" serif , serif;">Enoch
shook his head, “My daughter has her position and her role. She has
no experience out there, it would be insane to think she should lead
this particular mission. Tom, rank has its role too, but this is one
of the times where it is not a determinant factor.”</span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-family: "liberation" serif , serif;">Tom
didn't see Enoch stand up, stretch and then walk away. Several
scenarios of trying to infiltrate the carrier ran through his head.
None of them seemed likely to succeed. Many things would have to go
wrong for the enemy in order for this attack to work. The ships null
field should keep any atomic charges from exploding, just as it
renders most energy weapons useless. These were side affects of a
device originally created to protect ships during trans-spatial
travel.</span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-family: "liberation" serif , serif;">The
train slowed and then stopped. When Tom exited with everyone else, he
saw that he was in a cavern larger than he ever thought possible. It
occurred to him that some kind of Syncrian technology must have
formed and maintained this under-sea base. He could see the six ships
lined up and buildings and ground crews running around.</span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-family: "liberation" serif , serif;">Kembra
saw his face and explained, “It's just shield technology times ten.
Instead of expanding the shield range, we fortified it. Since this
meant that only a small area could be shielded, we use many of them.”</span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
“<span style="font-family: "liberation" serif , serif;">The
ships are larger than I imagined from the images.”</span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-family: "liberation" serif , serif;">Kembra
shook her head, “They are smaller than any of the capital ships in
the Free Republic fleet, but they suit Sync just fine. We just want
independence, we don't want our own empire or anything.”</span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-family: "liberation" serif , serif;">Each
ship had two energy cannon turrets, one on the top and one on the
bottom. Each turret fired two beams at a time. These were to be used
against the Onyx Flight fighters that the <i>Umbrage</i> would launch
against them, as well as against the torpedoes and rail guns that
many ships in the fleet carried.</span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-family: "liberation" serif , serif;">For
attacking the Umbrage with its nullification field activated, the
attacking forces would have to use its own torpedoes and projectile
weapons. Energy weapons would not be useful against the carrier until
that null-field was down.</span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-family: "liberation" serif , serif;">The
rebels believed their technology would cloak their ships from fleet
sensors until they were close enough to be safe from long-range
weapons. Tom was doubtful but he had to take it into consideration
that it might work that way.</span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-family: "liberation" serif , serif;">Getting
individual armor-suited fighters aboard the carrier was not going to
happen by stealth. At least one the rebel ships was going to have to
target the cargo decks to create an opening. If the same ship started
off by attacking the fighter and shuttle bays, the enemy might not
suspect that the cargo bays were hit on purpose.</span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-family: "liberation" serif , serif;">Once
the armor-suited fighters, Tom thought of them as Rebel Marines, were
on-board the carrier they would need to make their way quickly to the
forward and aft engineering sections about halfway between the
“bottom” and “top” of the ship. This is where the gravity
control pillars and power distribution nodes were located, the
massive vessel would become crippled without them.</span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-family: "liberation" serif , serif;">Of
course, the atomic charges were not likely to work, as Tom figured.
There would be need of another way to take these things out. All of
this had to be done before the Free Republic Marines showed up
because Tom did not think his side could win that fight. Trying to
use the jamming device Sandy had used on Tom wouldn't work on the
carrier. Way too much electromagnetic activity would be happening.</span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
“<span style="font-family: "liberation" serif , serif;">We
will have skeleton crews on the ships. There is no good reason to
risk more lives than is necessary,” Kembra had said, “Two of the
ships will be used to transport your infiltration team, the others
will continue to attack while you are inside.”</span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-family: "liberation" serif , serif;">Tom
shook his head, “No.”</span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-family: "liberation" serif , serif;">Kembra
looked alarmed, “No? What do you mean by that?”</span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
“<span style="font-family: "liberation" serif , serif;">Once
the team has infiltrated the carrier, our ships should get out of
there. Get as far away from the <i>Umbrage </i>as possible,” Tom
said, “Continuing the attack is too big a risk, and there is no
guarantee that the infiltration team will survive.”</span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-family: "liberation" serif , serif;">Kembra
looked down, “That's just...”</span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
“<span style="font-family: "liberation" serif , serif;">I'm
not just being pessimistic. The ships need to withdraw immediately if
it looks like we can't infiltrate or after we do infiltrate,” Tom
said, “Otherwise this whole mission will be useless. If we do
manage to survive and cripple the carrier, we will find a way back
down if possible.”</span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-family: "liberation" serif , serif;">Kembra
grinned, “Just remember that your armored suits are not rated for
re-entry.”</span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-family: "liberation" serif , serif;">Tom
smiled, “The landing would be especially rough.”</span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-family: "liberation" serif , serif;">His
crush on Kembra had been pushed aside by her brusque attitude when
they had first met, but he was getting used to that now. Otherwise
she reminded him of Maggie, at least somewhat, which explained a lot
in his mind.</span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
“<span style="font-family: "liberation" serif , serif;">If
you plan to do something stupid, try to give us a little warning,”
Kembra told him and she looked around, “Want to see something
special?”</span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-family: "liberation" serif , serif;">After
he assented she dragged him to a vehicle and drove across the
underground cavern to the far side were a large hangar housed another
ship. It was longer but narrower and the outer hull was shiny silver,
without any of the protective plating of the military vessels.</span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
“<span style="font-family: "liberation" serif , serif;">It's
a family ship. My father had this built a long time ago, but it has
hardly been used. If Sync can regain its independence it could be
used for diplomatic purposes,” she explained, “I remember
spending some time living in this thing even though it was on the
ground. The independence movement had been crushed and things looked
grim.”</span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
“<span style="font-family: "liberation" serif , serif;">So
your family used it as a hideout?” Tom asked.</span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
“<span style="font-family: "liberation" serif , serif;">We
lived in it while we learned and trained. The independence movement
morphed into an armed struggle with the Free Republic becoming an
oppressive regime.”</span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-family: "liberation" serif , serif;">Tom
nodded, times weren't good anywhere. The new regime had instituted
laws and economic decrees that defied common sense. Every planet was
now battling poverty, much of the economic and industrial base was
simply gone.</span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
“<span style="font-family: "liberation" serif , serif;">The
Free Republic hasn't built a new carrier since it became an empire,
it can't afford to. It has built precious few new ships of any type
because resources are dwindling and they'd rather use it to oppress
than build,” Kembra said, “If we can take out the <i>Umbrage</i>,
Tom, it will send the regime reeling.”</span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-family: "liberation" serif , serif;">She
led him up the steps and into the ship.</span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
“<span style="font-family: "liberation" serif , serif;">This
ship has no weapons, it was never meant to be a warship. It was going
to be a family yacht and this over here was my room.” </span>
</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-family: "liberation" serif , serif;">It
was clean, the bed had been made and a small stuffed animal he
couldn't name sat on the pillow. </span>
</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
“<span style="font-family: "liberation" serif , serif;">Cute,”
Tom said, “Any particular reason you're showing me this?”</span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
“<span style="font-family: "liberation" serif , serif;">Don't
get your hopes up, Tom, I'm not planning to get involved with any
relationship while the war is going on. The Sync War for Independence
at least,” She told him. Well, she knew he had a thing for her, so
much for that secret.</span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
“<span style="font-family: "liberation" serif , serif;">At
least?”</span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-family: "liberation" serif , serif;">Of
course if Sync achieved independence then other worlds would try to
follow. If the Free Republic loses the <i>Umbrage</i>, it would lose
prestige.</span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
“<span style="font-family: "liberation" serif , serif;">It
won't end here, Sync would still be at risk until the Free Republic
is toppled. If we succeed here, we still have to make sure that the
Free Republic is too busy elsewhere to bother trying to return. I
plan to help foment rebellion on other worlds afterward,” Kembra
told him, “This vessel, an unarmed civilian ship that the Free
Republic doesn't know will be used by me. I was hoping you would come
with me, assuming you don't get yourself killed.”</span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
“<span style="font-family: "liberation" serif , serif;">Go
with you?” Tom asked, “How would I not get my hopes up, if you
say things like that?”</span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-family: "liberation" serif , serif;">Kembra
took something from a drawer and handed it to him. It was a locket.
When he opened it a holographic projection appeared above it of
Kembra and Sandy on a beach, playing in the sand.</span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
“<span style="font-family: "liberation" serif , serif;">Take
this with you as a good luck charm.”</span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-family: "liberation" serif , serif;">He
grinned, “Cheesy.”</span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-family: "liberation" serif , serif;">She
shrugged.</span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
…</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-family: "liberation" serif , serif;">Enoch
was addressing the pilots and gunners of the six ships, “Finally,
the time has come. The plan that Tom Grier and others have devised
has been gone over for the past few days. Our armored warriors have
practiced their infiltration and you all know what is expected. Now,
with the blessing of the creator of the universe, it is time to
initiate our first attack against the fleet itself.”</span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-family: "liberation" serif , serif;">There
was silence.</span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
“<span style="font-family: "liberation" serif , serif;">To
your stations!” Enoch said and everyone began moving.</span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-family: "liberation" serif , serif;">Tom
climbed into the rear gate of the designated ship with seven other
armored fighters, the ones he had come to know and trust over the
past few days. Then he pressed the switch which closed the hatch.</span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-family: "liberation" serif , serif;"><b><i>Umbrage</i>,
Marine deck</b></span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
“<span style="font-family: "liberation" serif , serif;">I
can't believe that the crazy old fool has gone this far,” Colonel
Mortimer said examining the sealed hatch that blocked the corridor.
The Marines with him stood aside as General Gallant came to join him.</span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
“<span style="font-family: "liberation" serif , serif;">Well?”
The General asked, “What happened?”</span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-family: "liberation" serif , serif;">Mortimer
shook his head, “They completely sealed off the decks. We have no
access to the rest of the ship, just our own decks, and the chutes to
the shuttles in Bay 2. That Admiral has lost it. I don't think he has
much grip on reality left.”</span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-family: "liberation" serif , serif;">A
Marine added, “We tried using the laser cutters, but they're
jamming them like energy weapons. They have increased the jamming
just locally.”</span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
“<span style="font-family: "liberation" serif , serif;">We
can break through these seals, right?” General Gallant said, “With
our weapons, if we must.”</span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-family: "liberation" serif , serif;">The
Colonel nodded, “I suppose, but I don't like the idea of using
weapons on the ship. I'm sure the quad-barrel battle rifles can break
through with their explosive round, but it's explosive for one
thing.”</span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-family: "liberation" serif , serif;">Admiral
Robinson was going too far. With most of his Marines on Sync and much
of his staff combing through the <i>Dispensation</i> with Lt General
Edwards, there was little that could be done.</span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
“<span style="font-family: "liberation" serif , serif;">We'll
just ignore this for now. Inform the men that they are not to try to
cross into the other decks at all.” The General said and the men
nodded, saluted and departed.</span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-family: "liberation" serif , serif;">The
Colonel came up beside him and they headed back toward the Command &
Control center.</span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
“<span style="font-family: "liberation" serif , serif;">Anything
from Edwards?” The Colonel asked.</span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
“<span style="font-family: "liberation" serif , serif;">A
mess. They've mostly been cleaning the ship but they did manage to
pull some security video from the trashed computers. Just a few
seconds, but it was enough,” General Gallant said, “Some places
weren't as trashed as others. There is evidence that someone was
brought in as a medical emergency, although why we weren't alerted I
don't know.”</span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-family: "liberation" serif , serif;">The
Colonel frowned, “No sign of that patient?”</span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-family: "liberation" serif , serif;">Gallant
nodded, “Not among the dead, which makes that patient the top
suspect. There is a fleeting glimpse of his reflection a few frames
of video. We have not yet identified him, though.”</span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-family: "liberation" serif , serif;">Whoever
he was, he managed to incapacitate enough people to reach the
prototype and steal it. Then the person was able to disable the ship
and slaughter everyone aboard before leaving without a trace.</span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-family: "liberation" serif , serif;">The
prototype was a very deadly weapon, it was one of the few real
advances made since the new regime had come to power. Of course it
had been made in complete secrecy, especially from the regime.</span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-family: "liberation" serif , serif;">As
they entered the control center, they noted how few officers were
left aboard.</span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
“<span style="font-family: "liberation" serif , serif;">Sir!
General, something is happening out there.” Maddie Anders reported
as they entered.</span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
“<span style="font-family: "liberation" serif , serif;">What
is it?”</span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-family: "liberation" serif , serif;">She
shook her head, “I'm not sure. We've been cut off from ship sensors
and the like. It looks like they've launched every fighter they had
aboard.”</span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-family: "liberation" serif , serif;">The
Colonel growled, “I hope the Admiral isn't trying to commit any
atrocities.”</span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-family: "liberation" serif , serif;">Another
one of the Control officers came to them, “Sir, I contacted the
Dispensation and asked them to patch us into their sensor network. It
should be coming in any minute.”</span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
“<span style="font-family: "liberation" serif , serif;">Good
idea.” General Gallant said.</span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-family: "liberation" serif , serif;">Maggie
Anders furiously changed the settings on her console. “Check this
out.”</span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
“<span style="font-family: "liberation" serif , serif;">What?”</span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-family: "liberation" serif , serif;">She
pointed to the reading on her screen, “There seems to be some kind
of anomaly. There are intermittent signal distortions that have come
up from the planet and is now heading straight for the <i>Umbrage</i>.”</span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-family: "liberation" serif , serif;">The
General looked at the Colonel, “Is it some weapon we haven't seen
before?”</span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-family: "liberation" serif , serif;">The
Colonel shook his head, “I don't think Sync has any stealth
missiles, besides they would have used them a long time ago. We took
out their anti-orbital weapons at the start of the operation.”</span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
“<span style="font-family: "liberation" serif , serif;">Onyx
Flight is closing in on the distortion,” Maggie informed them, “Of
course we are cut off from seeing whatever they see.”</span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-family: "liberation" serif , serif;">The
sixteen blips reached the outline of the distortion area on the
sensors.</span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
…</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-family: "liberation" serif , serif;"><b>Syncrian
Infiltration Force, lead ship</b></span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
“<span style="font-family: "liberation" serif , serif;"><i>Opening
fire!</i>” Tom Grier heard the ships gunner announce. A small
screen on the wall told them what was happening. Onyx Flight was
inbound. The fleet hadn't been fooled by the rebel stealth technology
after all. </span>
</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-family: "liberation" serif , serif;">Suddenly
the ship turned fast enough that even through his heavy armored suit,
which was almost anchored by magnetic plating, he could feel it. </span>
</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
“<span style="font-family: "liberation" serif , serif;"><i>The</i>
Umbrage<i> is firing blindly in our direction!</i>” the coms
officer in the cockpit said, “<i>Okay, concentrate fire... now!</i>”</span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-family: "liberation" serif , serif;">Having
no control over what was going on didn't make Tom feel like a leader.
If it looked bad enough he could tell them to abort, that's about all
the control he had at that point. The pilots knew what they were
doing though, several choices were open to them. </span>
</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
“<span style="font-family: "liberation" serif , serif;">Option
D sounds good right now!” Tom told the ships coms officer.</span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
“<span style="font-family: "liberation" serif , serif;"><i>Roger
that!</i>”</span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-family: "liberation" serif , serif;">Tom
waited for the message to be sent to the ships. They would all change
course immediately after ship six dropped its stealth field. Ship six
only had a pilot and gunner, otherwise it was more heavily armed than
the others.</span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
“<span style="font-family: "liberation" serif , serif;"><i>Engaging
D!</i>”</span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-family: "liberation" serif , serif;">He
felt the tug of the course change. On the screen he watched ship six
falling back and flipping over, the rear hatch opening at the same
time. Onyx Flight fighters closed in on it like cats pouncing on a
mouse.</span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-family: "liberation" serif , serif;">Out
of the rear hatch more than a dozen stealthy torpedoes launched at
the nearby fighters. The fighters tried to change course or, more
realistically, shoot at the incoming torpedoes. Still, they had
little time since they were so close. More than half the fighters
sustained damage while three had been completely obliterated.</span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-family: "liberation" serif , serif;">Ship
six continued to fire its energy weapons and rail guns at the
fighters, which began trying to pull back. Two of the Onyx Flight
fighters continued to attack the ship which was now moving away, as
if to escape back to the planet below. It was leading them even
farther away from the carrier.</span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-family: "liberation" serif , serif;">Tom
was relieved but also distressed that his plan put the lives of two
brave people into direct jeopardy and now everyone else too.</span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
“<span style="font-family: "liberation" serif , serif;"><i>The
target will be in range in thirty seconds!</i>”</span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-family: "liberation" serif , serif;">Twenty
seconds after that, as the plan said, it would be time to break
through and infiltrate the Umbrage. Plans very often went awry of
course, upon first contact with the enemy.</span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-family: "liberation" serif , serif;">All
five of the remaining ships began firing their projectile weapons as
they approached the massive carrier. </span>
</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
“<span style="font-family: "liberation" serif , serif;">Okay,
let's get into position,” Tom ordered, turning to face the rear
hatch.</span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
“<span style="font-family: "liberation" serif , serif;"><i>Ship
Five has taken heavy damage to the engines!</i>”</span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-family: "liberation" serif , serif;">Tom
turned back to the screen on the wall. The carrier was firing blindly
into the distortion field created by the rebels null-field. As he
watched he could see ship five, it was rolling sideways and then it
changed course.</span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
“<span style="font-family: "liberation" serif , serif;">What
the...”</span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-family: "liberation" serif , serif;">Ship
Five slammed into the top-most deck of the Umbrage where a lot of
large observation windows had been located. It tore into the extended
deck and lodged inside. Tom Grier waited a couple seconds but there
was no explosion.</span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
“<span style="font-family: "liberation" serif , serif;">Tell
ship two that I think they have a new alternate infiltration point!”</span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
…</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-family: "liberation" serif , serif;"><b><i>Umbrage</i>,
Admirals office</b></span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-family: "liberation" serif , serif;">The
door opened and a breathless officer entered, “Admiral!”</span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-family: "liberation" serif , serif;">He
had heard the alarms and had been informed that Onyx Flight had
engaged an enemy vessel from the surface already. Since then he had
been taking a quick nap.</span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
“<span style="font-family: "liberation" serif , serif;">What
is it?” He asked, looking down to activate the holographic screen
of his hovering chair.</span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
“<span style="font-family: "liberation" serif , serif;">We're
under attack!”</span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
“<span style="font-family: "liberation" serif , serif;">We?”</span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
“<span style="font-family: "liberation" serif , serif;">The
<i>Umbrage</i> is under attack by stealth ships. One of them has
crashed into the observation deck, causing three deaths and the loss
of some atmosphere.”</span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-family: "liberation" serif , serif;">Admiral
James “Jim” Robinson started turning red in the face. “Have the
<i>Assyrian</i> move in closer to give us extra cover. Have the ship
placed on General Quarters, why is it not already?”</span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
“<span style="font-family: "liberation" serif , serif;">Your
standing orders was that only you can do that,” the officer
stammered.</span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
“<span style="font-family: "liberation" serif , serif;">Get
it done. I'm on my way to the bridge!”</span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-family: "liberation" serif , serif;">---- <a href="http://flscifi.blogspot.com/2016/07/escape-from-free-republic-chapter-eleven.html">Chapter Eleven</a></span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<span style="font-size: xx-small;"><a href="http://flscifi.blogspot.com/2016/06/escape-from-free-republic-chapter-nine.html"> Chapter Nine</a></span><br />
<span style="font-size: xx-small;"><a href="http://flscifi.blogspot.com/p/book-page.html">My Books</a><a href="http://flscifi.blogspot.com/p/book-page.html"> Page</a></span><br />
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
GeronLhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13145189615256636055noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5787869099782509690.post-85046730260136774252016-06-22T05:09:00.002-07:002016-06-22T05:09:48.436-07:00Short Story: The Sapin Pets<span style="color: red;">Sometimes I write little stories with the thought that they will someday become longer stories, maybe even novellas or novels. This one doesn't even have a real title at this point, so I just made something up.</span><br />
<br />
<h3 style="text-align: center;">
<b>The Sapin Pets</b></h3>
<div style="text-align: center;">
Floyd Looney</div>
<br />
<style type="text/css">P { margin-bottom: 0.08in; }</style>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-family: Liberation Serif, serif;"><span style="font-size: small;">The
knock at the door announced the arrival of the venerable researcher
Bolgar, who was also a friend of the esteemed Dulgard, the owner of
the estate. Both were nearly three meters tall, blue and the crown of
their heads were studded with sharp protuberances.</span></span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
“<span style="font-family: Liberation Serif, serif;"><span style="font-size: small;">Good
day, Dulgard!” the visitor said as the two males clasped their
claws on the shoulder of the other in friendly greeting.</span></span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
“<span style="font-family: Liberation Serif, serif;"><span style="font-size: small;">To
what do I owe the pleasure of your visit, Bolgar?” he asked as they
sat on the comfortable couches in the sitting room.</span></span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
“<span style="font-family: Liberation Serif, serif;"><span style="font-size: small;">I
was in the area on a research project,” Bolgar said as he accepted
a metal cup of hot liquid from the other who happened to have a tray
with the pot and an extra cup, “You know the uproar that happens
every time the <i>Cronia</i> reports that some animal can speak and
understand our language?”</span></span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-family: Liberation Serif, serif;"><span style="font-size: small;">Dulgard
nodded, “I stopped my subscription when they began running these
fake attention-seeking kinds of articles. What animal is it this
time?”</span></span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-family: Liberation Serif, serif;"><span style="font-size: small;">Bolgar
sighed, “Unfortunately, this time they might have something. Purely
by accident if it turns out to have a factual basis. They are now
reporting that sapins are actually intelligent and can be taught to
understand our language.”</span></span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-family: Liberation Serif, serif;"><span style="font-size: small;">Dulgard
had a strange expression for a moment before frowning, “What kind
of idiocy is this?”</span></span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
“<span style="font-family: Liberation Serif, serif;"><span style="font-size: small;">Yes,
well I have seen that look in their eyes. They do have a look of an
intelligence species, being bipedal and all,” Bolgar said, “Their
discovery is still recent as things go, less than one hundred
crossings of the plane.”</span></span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-family: Liberation Serif, serif;"><span style="font-size: small;">Dulgard
smiled and said, “Are you saying there is some credence to the
theory?”</span></span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-family: Liberation Serif, serif;"><span style="font-size: small;">Bolgar
waved his arms in the air, “We do not know where they came from, or
how. We do not know the origination planet. Sure, some space-faring
species might have dropped them off on Plexis where we found and
rescued them, but what if they got there themselves?”</span></span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
“<span style="font-family: Liberation Serif, serif;"><span style="font-size: small;">Once
they are house trained they do normally make good pets,” Dulgard
said, “I bought one for my daughter not too long ago.”</span></span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-family: Liberation Serif, serif;"><span style="font-size: small;">Bolgar
considered this, “Might I see this creature?”</span></span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-family: Liberation Serif, serif;"><span style="font-size: small;">Dulgard
frowned, “I don't want you dissecting my daughters pet, it was
quite expensive. Besides, she doesn't seem intelligent to me. We had
a hard time teaching the thing to defecate outside instead of in the
flower pots.”</span></span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-family: Liberation Serif, serif;"><span style="font-size: small;">They
both laughed as Dulgard poured more of the hot liquid into their
cups.</span></span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
“<span style="font-family: Liberation Serif, serif;"><span style="font-size: small;">It
is a fascinating species. The idea that they were once a space-faring
intelligent species that has fallen to this level is interesting, we
just don't know enough about them to prove it is not true. I would
like to do some tests, no not cutting them, just talking to them and
showing them images and observing,” the researcher promised.</span></span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-family: Liberation Serif, serif;"><span style="font-size: small;">Dulgard,
“I suppose we could come to an arrangement.”</span></span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
“<span style="font-family: Liberation Serif, serif;"><span style="font-size: small;">Can
I just... see the pet before I go?” Bolgar asked sheepishly.</span></span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-family: Liberation Serif, serif;"><span style="font-size: small;">The
door to his daughters room opened a small bit and the two males
peered inside where the sapin was lying, apparently asleep on a
corner of the bed.</span></span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
“<span style="font-family: Liberation Serif, serif;"><span style="font-size: small;">Your
daughter apparently likes to keep the hair trimmed,” Bolgar
observed, “No hair on the face, it is a female then?”</span></span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
“<span style="font-family: Liberation Serif, serif;"><span style="font-size: small;">I
think so, although it's not like I know much about them,” Dulgard
answered with a shrug, “I only objected when she tried to put
clothing on the poor thing. One must not traumatize pets that way,
especially really expensive ones.”</span></span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-family: Liberation Serif, serif;"><span style="font-size: small;">The
female sapin stirred ad stretched her arms into the air before
turning its head to look directly at the observers. The sapin
appeared to smile in their direction.</span></span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
“<span style="font-family: Liberation Serif, serif;"><span style="font-size: small;">It
doesn't seem upset to see us,” Bolgar said, “I have seen some
animals kept as pets that would be screeching, biting and spitting at
us. This one does have that intelligent look in its eyes.”</span></span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
“<span style="font-family: Liberation Serif, serif;"><span style="font-size: small;">As
far as I can tell about this one, it seems to have a very agreeable
temperament,” Dulgard said, “Although quite fragile, they so seem
to enjoy a good rubbing. This one truly enjoys being bathed, I have
seen it laughing and playing.”</span></span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
“<span style="font-family: Liberation Serif, serif;"><span style="font-size: small;">I
must get funding to find out where they came from and how they
reached Plexis.”</span></span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-family: Liberation Serif, serif;"><span style="font-size: small;">Dulgard
nodded, “I suppose I can always propose such a thing to the
council, but I won't make any promises.”</span></span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-family: Liberation Serif, serif;"><span style="font-size: small;">After
the visiting researcher left, Dulgard entered his daughters room. The
sapin was still sitting on the edge of the bed.</span></span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
“<span style="font-family: Liberation Serif, serif;"><span style="font-size: small;">I
suppose you need to be fed and let out to defecate,” he told the
creature that climbed down from the bed and walked toward him.
Dulgard did not tell his friend the whole truth. In fact, Dulgard
knew for certain that sapins were capable of intelligence. This pet
obviously understood what he said, sometimes he thinks it understood
a lot more than simple things too.</span></span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-family: Liberation Serif, serif;"><span style="font-size: small;">After
the sapin scarfed down milky oats he let it out the sliding
transparent back door. The creature took a small spade and dug a hole
near a tree on which to squat, finishing by wiping itself with leaves
and burying those along with the excrement. Using tools counts as a
sign of intelligence, Dulgard believed.</span></span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-family: Liberation Serif, serif;"><span style="font-size: small;">The
creature stood up, but instead of coming back inside immediately she
was staring at something in the sky. It was Plexis, dominating the
daylight skies. The two worlds orbited each other. Dulgard wondered
if all sapins looked at that world so longingly as this one. All he
saw was a blue-green world covered with a lot of white clouds, just
like the world they stood upon.</span></span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-family: Liberation Serif, serif;"><span style="font-size: small;">----</span></span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-family: Liberation Serif, serif;"><span style="font-size: small;">You can help me out by considering<a href="http://flscifi.blogspot.com/p/book-page.html"> buying one of my ebooks</a>. </span></span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-family: Liberation Serif, serif;"><span style="font-size: small;"><br /></span></span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-family: Liberation Serif, serif;"><span style="font-size: small;"><br /></span></span></div>
GeronLhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13145189615256636055noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5787869099782509690.post-10224788926987627322016-06-18T01:16:00.003-07:002016-06-24T15:41:12.717-07:00Escape From The Free Republic - Chapter Nine<a href="http://flscifi.blogspot.com/2016/06/escape-from-free-republic-chapter-eight.html"><span style="font-size: xx-small;">Chapter Eight</span></a><br />
<span style="font-size: xx-small;"><a href="http://flscifi.blogspot.com/p/book-page.html">My Books</a><a href="http://flscifi.blogspot.com/p/book-page.html"> Page</a></span><br />
<br />
<div style="text-align: center;">
<span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif;"><b>Chapter Nine</b></span></div>
<br />
<style type="text/css">P { margin-bottom: 0.08in; }</style>
<br />
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-family: "liberation" serif , serif;">There
was no time for a meet and greet when Tom Grier rejoined the rebels,
including the rebel leaders that had been gathered in Valla for a
conference. The immediate issue was getting back underground, back on
the subterranean train and get as far from there as possible.</span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-family: "liberation" serif , serif;">Tom
only relaxed when they were many kilometers from Valla.</span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-family: "liberation" serif , serif;">Sandy
had her helmet down again as she approached where he sat. She sat
next to him and was quiet for a moment.</span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
“<span style="font-family: "liberation" serif , serif;">I
was wondering if you might not come back,” She said.</span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
“<span style="font-family: "liberation" serif , serif;">I'm
not dead.”</span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
“<span style="font-family: "liberation" serif , serif;">I
mean, I thought you might have rejoined the Free Republic Marines.
Just a small part of my mind thought you might,” Sandy said,
looking embarrassed.</span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-family: "liberation" serif , serif;">He
nodded, “I did have a chance to do that. It just did not feel like
the right thing to do.”</span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-family: "liberation" serif , serif;">The
gray-haired man with the trimmed beard stood by his daughter, “My
name is Enoch. I am one of the rebel instigators, as the Free
Republic likes to say. I hear that you have some information which
might be of use to our cause?”</span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-family: "liberation" serif , serif;">There
was no reason to hide it, Tom looked up at Enoch and said, “The
Free Republic Marines were arresting some of Admiral Robinson's
agents after what happened in Valla.”</span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-family: "liberation" serif , serif;">An
eyebrow raised, “Indeed?”</span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
“<span style="font-family: "liberation" serif , serif;">The
Marine General Gallant himself was there,” Tom said, looking
anywhere but at the man now, “You'll probably be upset that I
didn't shoot him, I guess.”</span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-family: "liberation" serif , serif;">The
rebel leader crossed his arms but grinned, “No, you did the right
thing. It seems, though, that a bigger rift between the Fleet and the
Marines is opening. I'm sure that could be used to our advantage in
the next operation. We just need to determine how.”</span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
“<span style="font-family: "liberation" serif , serif;">Are
you people seriously thinking of attacking the fleet itself? They'd
do to the whole planet what they did to that base we fled from!”
Tom told them both. A mountain had been turned into a valley by
orbital bombardment weapons.</span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-family: "liberation" serif , serif;">Enoch
nodded, “I believe the old axion was something along the lines of,
'If you're determined to punch the Regolian in the snout, you'd
better make sure he doesn't get back up.' We won't act without a real
plan, Tom Grier, I assure you.”</span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
“<span style="font-family: "liberation" serif , serif;">I
thought you might like to see one of the ships, Tom,” Sandy said
with a broad smile. Of course she had reason to be happy, her father
and sister had been saved.</span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-family: "liberation" serif , serif;">Tom
sighed. He leaned his head back and closed his eyes. The rebels
didn't seem to understand what he was trying to tell them. Attacking
the fleet itself was the worst possible course of action. For one it
would unite Admiral James “Jim” Robinson and General Gallant to a
much rougher course of action against Sync. </span>
</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-family: "liberation" serif , serif;">For
two, news of such an attack would create sympathy and anger across
the worlds of the Free Republic even where it was not popular. More
ships and Marines would be sent and harsher measures against the
population would be enacted.</span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-family: "liberation" serif , serif;">When
he woke up the train had stopped. He exited to find it was sitting
next to an underground lake surrounded by lighting devices. The other
soldiers had gotten out of their armor and were swimming, bathing and
even playing in the water.</span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-family: "liberation" serif , serif;">Sandy
in a black one-piece bathing suit looked more like a child than ever
as she splashed water at soldiers. Tom still couldn't pin-point her
age, it was always possible she was just naturally on the
flat-chested side. Suddenly her father in formal attire was standing
next to him holding out a glass of something.</span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
“<span style="font-family: "liberation" serif , serif;">It
is Syncrian Tea, sweetened,” Enoch said. Tom took the glass and
took a sip. The fruity tea flavor was a surprise. </span>
</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
“<span style="font-family: "liberation" serif , serif;">It's
nice.”</span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-family: "liberation" serif , serif;">Enoch
smiled. Tom suddenly realized another girl was standing behind the
rebel leader. Enoch took a step to the side and held out a hand, “I
don't think you have been introduced to my other daughter, Kembra.”</span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-family: "liberation" serif , serif;">Tom
held out his hand and bowed a little. Kembra was beautiful and not
under-developed in the least like her little sister. “It's a
pleasure to meet you, Kembra.”</span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-family: "liberation" serif , serif;">She
smiled, Tom was captivated, “Likewise. I don't know if you
understand that your name has spread across the planet among us
rebels. You've become famous even before you have really earned it.”</span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-family: "liberation" serif , serif;">Ouch.</span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
“<span style="font-family: "liberation" serif , serif;">I
hope to be of use,” Tom told her. He felt a bit self-conscience
about the state of his face after the rebel surgery to remove all of
the enhancement implants. Tom imagined that his one-eyed scarred face
was hideous to a girl like Kembra.</span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
“<span style="font-family: "liberation" serif , serif;">Yes,
there is something you could help us with,” Kembra told him. Tom
felt like he had just walked right into a trap.</span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
“<span style="font-family: "liberation" serif , serif;">And
what is that?”</span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
“<span style="font-family: "liberation" serif , serif;">You
could help us plan the attack on the fleet. You aren't the only
former Marine in our ranks, but you are here and available.” Kembra
told him. He heard it as, “The others are busy out there fighting.”</span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-family: "liberation" serif , serif;">Tom
looked back at the underground lake, “I think an attack on the
fleet itself is a bad idea.”</span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-family: "liberation" serif , serif;">Kembra
nodded and smiled, “I'm sure you do. You don't know some of the
things we need to show you that will change your mind.”</span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
“<span style="font-family: "liberation" serif , serif;">What
do you mean?” Tom asked.</span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-family: "liberation" serif , serif;">She
smiled again, Tom was already in love with her teeth, she asked
“Interested?”</span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
“<span style="font-family: "liberation" serif , serif;">Sure,”
He answered.</span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-family: "liberation" serif , serif;">Enoch
drank his tea and nodded, “Show him that it won't be a suicide
mission. With his help, we can give the Free Republic more than a
bloody nose.”</span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-family: "liberation" serif , serif;">The
entire side of the command car of the train was open, top and bottom,
creating what would look like a normal sized room without walls. A
couple members of the leadership delegation were in the center
looking over a holographic projection of Sync.</span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
“<span style="font-family: "liberation" serif , serif;">Okay,
Anid, let's show Tom what we have,” Kembra said as she motioned for
him to be seated, although he was perfectly comfortable standing in
the suit since the suit did all the supporting. He sat down anyways,
just to be next to her. The short, older woman named Anid started
speaking, first blue dots appeared on the globe, most of them in the
oceans.</span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
“<span style="font-family: "liberation" serif , serif;">All
right, the main thing is we have ships. They were well-hidden a long
time ago, the fleet destroyed mothballed junk whose electrical
signatures were changed to match the new tech. As you found out when
you were captured we have the ability to block the carrier signals to
implants and knock out the power distribution node of your suit.”</span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-family: "liberation" serif , serif;">He
nodded, “I found that out the hard way.”</span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-family: "liberation" serif , serif;">Anid
smiled, “We can do something similar to the shielding and sensors
of fleet vessels.”</span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-family: "liberation" serif , serif;">Tom
shook his head, “Impossible. It would take incredible power output
to even reach the fleet.”</span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-family: "liberation" serif , serif;">The
woman moved her hand and the holographic image closed in until only
the image of the fleet was visible.</span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
“<span style="font-family: "liberation" serif , serif;">The
power output would be coming from aboard the rebel ships, not nearly
as far away as the surface of the planet,” she told him, “At any
rate their sensors and some shipboard functions will be negatively
affected as well.”</span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-family: "liberation" serif , serif;">Tom
frowned, “You don't really know which systems would be affected?”</span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
“<span style="font-family: "liberation" serif , serif;">Having
never done this before, no we don't.”</span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-family: "liberation" serif , serif;">Kembra
spoke up, “I assume the power distribution nodes aboard a ship like
the carrier <i>Umbrage</i> would be heavily shielded from
interference. Maybe not as much for some of the smaller vessels.”</span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-family: "liberation" serif , serif;">Tom
stood up and turned to face Anid and Kembra.</span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
“<span style="font-family: "liberation" serif , serif;">The
first thing that will happen, when you are still too far away to jam
their system, they will open up on you like a fireworks display. Then
before you get too close, Onyx Flight will be launched. Those are
your basic advanced fighters, not as maneuverable in space, but much
more than your ships are likely to be. If you can get passed all of
that, the <i>Umbrage</i> has close-in weapons systems that are
hardened against jamming and glamming,” he told them, “It would
take quite a miracle to get through all of that.”</span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-family: "liberation" serif , serif;">Anida
stepped forward, “We forgot to tell you that our ships will be
mostly invisible to their sensors, we have a system that creates the
opposite of whatever signals might be bounced off the hull,
nullifying the signature. Like sound and anti-sound systems in a
factory to reduce the noise level, except ours is better.”</span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
“<span style="font-family: "liberation" serif , serif;">That
is impossible, every research project into that found it to be so
flawed that it could never work,” Tom said, “The Free Republic
has a lot more scientific research going on that Sync by itself
could.”</span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-family: "liberation" serif , serif;">Kembra
laughed, “Quantity over quality is not always a good thing. The
Free Republic throws out grants and contracts like candy,
irrespective of results. Actually, they normally reward failure with
more money. Thus encouraging a bloated research industry that
produces little. Sync doesn't do that, real advances get grants not
promising proposal papers.” </span>
</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
“<span style="font-family: "liberation" serif , serif;">It's
already been fielded. You've already had a run-in with the
technology,” Anid said.</span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
“<span style="font-family: "liberation" serif , serif;">What?
When?”</span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
“<span style="font-family: "liberation" serif , serif;">On
your way down to Sync aboard the landing pods. You felt a jolt, the
enhancement and the carrier signals that controlled feelings and
thoughts blinked off for a moment. Your pod had bumped into one of
our stealthy ships, and it still got away without being detected,”
Anid told him.</span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-family: "liberation" serif , serif;">Tom
was dumbfounded. The rebels could really do that? Challenging the
goliath of the Free Republic with its many planets was still insane.
Or was it? Could this little unassuming world named Sync really
defeat the Free Republic?</span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-family: "liberation" serif , serif;">No,
they'd just send more fleets and bombard the planet. There was no way
the man running Free Republic, a narcissist who could never admit to
being wrong, was going to allow it. Dissent wasn't tolerated by his
regime, rebellion would definitely not be.</span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-family: "liberation" serif , serif;">Tom
Grier still thought the uprising was doomed to eventual failure, but
if they managed to put a dent into the armor of the fledgling empire,
it might encourage more rebellions on other worlds in the Free
Republic.</span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
“<span style="font-family: "liberation" serif , serif;">How
many ships do you have? What are their configurations and weapon
systems?” Tom asked, as a nugget of an idea entered his head.</span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
“<span style="font-family: "liberation" serif , serif;">Tom,”
Kemdra said.</span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
“<span style="font-family: "liberation" serif , serif;">What?”</span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
“<span style="font-family: "liberation" serif , serif;">The
point of this attack is to board the carrier, which is the flagship
and is running the combat operations and cause enough damage to
cripple it,” she told him, “If you have an idea on how to
accomplish this, we'd all love to hear it. Anid, call a gathering.”</span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-family: "liberation" serif , serif;">The
train stopped again in a large underground chamber where another
rebel group was temporarily based. These soldiers belonged to
Kembra's command, Tom learned rather quickly as some of the ranking
officers lined up to salute her.</span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-family: "liberation" serif , serif;">Enoch,
Kembra, Sandy and others took to a natural stage at the center of the
assembly. Tom was reluctant to join them but they insisted.</span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
“<span style="font-family: "liberation" serif , serif;">Today
is a new beginning, shed the burdens and worries of the past and take
on the duties required of us to go forward,” Enoch began the first
speech, “You have all heard about what happened in Valla, we were
attacked by the Free Republic and we managed to escape. We all mourn
the loss of our five brave soldiers, but we look forward to avenge
them!”</span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-family: "liberation" serif , serif;">Tom
thought Enoch sounded a lot like a politician.</span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
“<span style="font-family: "liberation" serif , serif;">Our
next move is to show the fleet that oppresses us that we are not
cowed, we are not going to submit to their rule over Sync! Syncrians
shall be free!” he said, the crowd was getting a little raucous. Of
course these were soldiers and rebel leaders, the speech was
apparently being recorded for further use too.</span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
“<span style="font-family: "liberation" serif , serif;">We
will strike at the fleet itself, we will take out their crown jewel
and make them choke on it!” Kembra told the gathering, resulting in
cheers.</span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-family: "liberation" serif , serif;">Sandy
leaned toward him and said, “Maybe you should lead the assault.”</span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-family: "liberation" serif , serif;">Lead
it? Tom wasn't confident enough to offer something like that. Just
getting there and getting out alive would be enough of an
accomplishment. The plan was simple: board the <i>Umbrage</i> and
plant at least one nuclear device to take out the biggest weapon in
the fleet. Get out alive if possible.</span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-family: "liberation" serif , serif;"><b>Carrier
<i>Umbrage</i>, auxiliary storage room lowest deck</b></span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
“<span style="font-family: "liberation" serif , serif;">It
was a fiasco of the highest order. The Admiral is... less than happy
about what happened in Valla and you are the highest ranking officer
that survived, Bolton,” Commander Grabble told the soldier who was
standing at attention, as much as he could with his arms bound behind
his back. Three masked soldiers with light guns kept Bolton from
trying to escape.</span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
“<span style="font-family: "liberation" serif , serif;">It's
not true. I did nothing wrong,” The soldier responded.</span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-family: "liberation" serif , serif;">Commander
Grabble paced back and forth before facing Bolton again, “Lieutenant
Blade was alive when you saw him last?”</span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
“<span style="font-family: "liberation" serif , serif;">I
helped him board the shuttle!”</span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
“<span style="font-family: "liberation" serif , serif;">I
see,” Grabble said, “Yet, he wasn't aboard when the shuttle
arrived.”</span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-family: "liberation" serif , serif;">Bolton
shook his head, “He was behind where I sat, I don't know where he
went.”</span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
“<span style="font-family: "liberation" serif , serif;">You
described Blade as having two useless legs and a useless arm. How
could he have gone anywhere, much less while aboard a shuttle?”
Grabble asked, “You can see why the Admiral would have a problem
with this. With General Gallant taking two of our men prisoner,
charging them with violating the Code of Military Justice in an
attempt to embarrass the Admiral, it is imperative that
embarrassments are made to disappear.”</span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
“<span style="font-family: "liberation" serif , serif;">You
can send me away, I'll never be heard from again! You can send me to
the remotest world in the Free Republic, I'll go gladly,” Bolton
told Commander Grabble.</span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-family: "liberation" serif , serif;">Grabble
put his hands behind his back, “It's not my call. The Admiral gives
the orders around here, Bolton.”</span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-family: "liberation" serif , serif;">Grabble
nodded to the soldiers who slung their weapons to their back and each
grabbed one arm of Bolton and began pulling him toward the air-lock.</span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
“<span style="font-family: "liberation" serif , serif;">No,
please! Don't do this!” He pleaded as the air-locks inner hatch
cycled open. The guards pushed him inside. Just before the door
cycled closed he screamed, “I'll tell you where Blade is!”</span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-family: "liberation" serif , serif;">Grabble
smiled and walked up to the hatch, “I'm listening but I'm not
making any promises.”</span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-family: "liberation" serif , serif;">Bolton
was desperate, “He was let out at the <i>Dispensation</i>. The
Marines tech ship.”</span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-family: "liberation" serif , serif;">Grabble
was confused, “Why?”</span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-family: "liberation" serif , serif;">Bolton
shook his head, “I don't know, he wouldn't tell me.”</span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-family: "liberation" serif , serif;">Grabble
then turned and walked away, and waved his hand in the air as he
walked to the exit hatch, “Follow the Admirals orders!”</span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
“<span style="font-family: "liberation" serif , serif;">What?”
Bolton said as the inner hatch shut and before he could react the
outer hatch opened and he was thrown out into space before his world
went black.</span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-family: "liberation" serif , serif;">...</span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-family: "liberation" serif , serif;"><b><span style="font-style: normal;">Carrier</span><i>
Umbrage</i>, General Gallants office</b></span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
“<span style="font-family: "liberation" serif , serif;">The
Admiral is not going to silently wait while we prosecute two of his
men at a court-martial. If I know the old man, he will hit back
sooner rather than later,” Colonel Mortimer said, holding his glass
of Tarsish champaign as if it were poison while standing near the
door.</span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-family: "liberation" serif , serif;">Lieutenant
General Roscoe Edwards sat across the Generals desk with his hat on
his lap, “I've posted extra guards in the corridors and near the
lifts. If he's insane enough to send men to try and free the
prisoners, he'll have to face a court-martial himself.</span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-family: "liberation" serif , serif;">Gallant
nodded and then finished his drink, “It's a tense situation, for
sure. Although he has political connections that reach the top, he
has to be made to follow the rules. I'm not sure if Robinson is
playing with a full deck, but he isn't playing the same game the rest
of us are.”</span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
“<span style="font-family: "liberation" serif , serif;">He's
dangerous,” Colonel Mortimer said, finally putting the demon liquor
down on the desk, which the General smiled at, “I'm not sure what
will happen going forward, but if he is as unstable as we think, he
will strike.”</span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
“<span style="font-family: "liberation" serif , serif;">Between
the three of us, I think we need to be prepared for the worst. We
might have to send Marines to arrest Robinson for the safety of
everyone on this ship,” Lt General Edwards told them.</span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-family: "liberation" serif , serif;">General
Gallant reached across the desk and took the glass Mortimer had set
down, “Let Robinson make his move. Then we can decide our
response.”</span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-family: "liberation" serif , serif;">The
door swung open and Colonel Wilma Johnson entered, “General, we
have a situation!”</span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-family: "liberation" serif , serif;">All
three of the men looked alarm at her statement. Gallant stood, “What
is it Colonel?”</span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
“<span style="font-family: "liberation" serif , serif;">Someone
has boarded the <i>Dispensation</i> and stolen the prototype Mark IV,
sir,” She told them, Colonel Mortimer leaned against the wall to
keep his balance. Edwards looked astonished. Gallant took deep
breaths, “What happened? Get me someone aboard that ship, I need to
know how this happened.”</span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
“<span style="font-family: "liberation" serif , serif;">That's
the worst news, sir, there doesn't seem to be anyone still alive on
that ship!”</span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-family: "liberation" serif , serif;">---- <a href="http://flscifi.blogspot.com/2016/06/escape-from-free-republic-chapter-ten.html">Chapter <span style="font-family: "liberation" serif , serif;">Ten</span></a></span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<a href="http://flscifi.blogspot.com/2016/06/escape-from-free-republic-chapter-eight.html"><span style="font-size: xx-small;">Chapter Eight</span></a><br />
<span style="font-size: xx-small;"><a href="http://flscifi.blogspot.com/p/book-page.html">My Books</a><a href="http://flscifi.blogspot.com/p/book-page.html"> Page</a></span><br />
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
GeronLhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13145189615256636055noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5787869099782509690.post-53721539843100909862016-06-16T01:00:00.000-07:002016-06-18T01:17:54.490-07:00Escape From The Free Republic - Chapter Eight<br />
<span style="font-size: xx-small;"><a href="http://flscifi.blogspot.com/2016/06/escape-from-free-republic-chapter-seven.html">Chapter Seven</a></span><br />
<span style="font-size: xx-small;"><a href="http://flscifi.blogspot.com/p/book-page.html">My Books</a><a href="http://flscifi.blogspot.com/p/book-page.html"> Page</a></span><br />
<br />
<br />
<style type="text/css">P { margin-bottom: 0.08in; }</style>
<br />
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: center;">
<span style="font-family: "liberation" serif , serif;"><b>Chapter
Eight</b></span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-family: "liberation" serif , serif;">Tom
Grier pushed himself up, the armor was feeling more natural to him
now. He didn't know where the shooter was yet, with the old implants
he would have access to information that would let him know
immediately. Information from drones, counter-battery radar and many
other things would have let him “see” the entire field of battle.</span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-family: "liberation" serif , serif;">Now
he was running from behind one building to another trying not to get
hit by a very powerful sniper weapon. It had to be some kind of
rail-gun, he knew that snipers in his Marine group carried some very
long guns strapped to the back of their suits.</span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
“<span style="font-family: "liberation" serif , serif;">The
sniper knows exactly where we are!” He said into his local radio to
the others, “We need to find better cover and take out whatever
drones he has up.”</span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-family: "liberation" serif , serif;">Sandy
stopped and threw an explosive in the middle of the street. It
created a crater that reached down into the sewage system, which was
as much cover as they were going to get. They all climbed down into
it.</span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-family: "liberation" serif , serif;">Sandy
began sending some messages that he could not hear. One of the other
men set up a small sensor pod that quickly identified two drones
flying overhead. </span>
</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-family: "liberation" serif , serif;">Tom
Grier laid down in the muck and aimed his QBR-44 at one of the drones
and fired a seven-round burst. At least three of the 18mm rounds
homed in and took out the drone. The others exploded harmlessly at
higher altitude.</span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
“<span style="font-family: "liberation" serif , serif;">That
other drone is taking a wider arc. It'll be back in about 6 seconds,”
someone reported, and there it was, as predicted. It peeked over at
them and then moved out of visual range before anyone could get shots
off.</span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
“<span style="font-family: "liberation" serif , serif;">We've
been made!” someone said, “Everybody out!”</span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-family: "liberation" serif , serif;">The
armored-clad soldier began leaping out of the crater and Tom was
about to join them when he noticed that Sandy was deep in
conversation and hadn't heard. He grabbed her from behind and tossed
her out of the crater just as shells began to land all around him.</span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-family: "liberation" serif , serif;">Tom
fired his quad-barrel rifle into the sky after switching to
'intercept'. Some of the incoming mortar rounds were taken out as his
gun blared away. Several explosions pushed him around like a rag doll
in the crater, but it didn't seem to do a lot of damage to the suit.</span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-family: "liberation" serif , serif;">Finally
there was a break and he leaped over the lip of the crater and ran
towards what looked like a small stadium. </span>
</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
“<span style="font-family: "liberation" serif , serif;">I've
located the sniper!” one of the team members reported.</span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
“<span style="font-family: "liberation" serif , serif;">About
time!” Tom yelled as he arrived at the location. He noticed that
one of the armored soldiers was laid out on the ground, a large
gaping hole in the suits abdomen. The humans too.</span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
“<span style="font-family: "liberation" serif , serif;">Rex
Reilly is dead,” someone told him, not that he was really familiar
with these guys yet.</span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
“<span style="font-family: "liberation" serif , serif;">On
the roof of the tallest building, center of town,” Sandy said, “Can
you hit that from here<span style="font-family: "liberation" serif , serif;">?</span>”</span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-family: "liberation" serif , serif;">The
building in question rose much higher than the other buildings, it
became quite narrow by the time it became a flat roof. </span>
</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
“<span style="font-family: "liberation" serif , serif;">You
need to contact your father! Tell them to cancel the conference and
get into hiding!” Tom said, although he knew that communications
systems had probably all been jammed. The rebels had been able to
break through that sometimes, he had seen since being captured, maybe
she could get through.</span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-family: "liberation" serif , serif;">Shots
started breaking through the wall of the stadium, in rapid
succession. Pang! Pang! Pang! </span>
</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
“<span style="font-family: "liberation" serif , serif;">You
need to move to another spot, just keep moving,” Tom told them,
“I'm going to go the other way, but as long as he is shooting at
us, he isn't shooting at your father. No run.”</span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-family: "liberation" serif , serif;">As
soon as they reached the far end of the stadium Tom ran toward the
tall building. The powered legs weren't yet as responsive as they had
been with his enhancements, but they'd do. He heard shots hitting
behind him and beside him as he ran. He also moved from side to side
and then made abrupt turns down alleys and through at least parking
garage.</span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
…</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-family: "liberation" serif , serif;">Lieutenant
Blade was frustrated as he adjusted the large gun again, moving it
closer to the edge of the building. Someone down there in Free
Republic Marine armor was running fast and trying to get close to his
platform. That person had been with the rebels, Blade knew he had to
take that suit out, “Traitor!” he muttered.</span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-family: "liberation" serif , serif;">In
his ear he heard from one of his team members near the conference
hall, “<i>No sign of the meeting coming together yet, they're all
late!</i>”</span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-family: "liberation" serif , serif;">Then
from his spotter, Bolton, across the street from the hotel, “</span><span style="font-family: "liberation" serif , serif;"><i>They
left the hotel room several minutes ago, they should be reaching the
street level soon. Are you ready Blade?</i></span><span style="font-family: "liberation" serif , serif;">”</span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
“<span style="font-family: "liberation" serif , serif;">Blast
it!” He said, “We have rebels moving up on our six!”</span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
“<span style="font-family: "liberation" serif , serif;"><i>Our
mission is to take out the rebel leaders!</i></span><span style="font-family: "liberation" serif , serif;">”</span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-family: "liberation" serif , serif;">Lieutenant
Blade threw the headset against the roof. He grabbed the gun assembly
and swung the whole thing to the other side of the roof. Then he
peered down at the entry of the hotel and saw nobody there.</span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
“<span style="font-family: "liberation" serif , serif;">They
aren't there! We've been given the slip, they must have found a back
way out. Get down there and find them Bolton!” Blade ordered, then
he swung it back to the other side and tried to find the rebel in the
Free Republic Marine armor. “Bloody hell, this whole gig is going
to crap!”</span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
“<span style="font-family: "liberation" serif , serif;"><i>Blade,
I don't think the meeting is going to happen! They must have
suspected something.</i></span><span style="font-family: "liberation" serif , serif;">”</span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
“<span style="font-family: "liberation" serif , serif;">We
need to pull out, get the Admiral to send down some shuttles!”
Blade told the men surrounding the conference hall. He gave up on the
traitor and went back panning to look for the rebels, his last drone
was on the far side of the city. Soon enough he found them, lying low
in a revetment. He wondered if these rebels planned to meet up with
some of the runaway rebel leaders.</span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
“<span style="font-family: "liberation" serif , serif;">What's
the ETA on those shuttles?” He asked as he sighted in the big gun
on the rebel position. If anyone showed up to meet them, that person
was going to become soup.</span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
“<span style="font-family: "liberation" serif , serif;"><i>Seven
minutes.</i></span><span style="font-family: "liberation" serif , serif;">”</span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-family: "liberation" serif , serif;">A
vehicle stopped near where the rebels were holding position. Blade
focused in on the people exiting the vehicle. The gray-haired,
bearded man looked familiar. It was “Jonah”, the man who had
become a hero to all of Sync for standing against the Free Republic.
The authorities had hunted him for years to no avail.</span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-family: "liberation" serif , serif;">Blade
grinned and decided to take out the leader of the rebellion.</span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-family: "liberation" serif , serif;">Suddenly
the gun swerved as if it had been pushed and Lieutenant Blade found
himself thrown to the ground, he rolled once and stood up. The
traitor in armor was on the roof with him. He spit.</span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
“<span style="font-family: "liberation" serif , serif;">You're
going to die here, traitor!” Blade yelled and pulled a handgun from
the pocket on the side of his leg. The traitor rolled to the side
faster than Blade could aim, then from a position on all four the
armored figure launched directly at him. The tackle threw Blade onto
his back, his handgun disappeared and the faceplate of the traitor
was right in his face.</span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
“<span style="font-family: "liberation" serif , serif;">Who
are you?” The armored suit demanded.</span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
“<span style="font-family: "liberation" serif , serif;">I
was going to ask the same thing, traitor!” Blade said, trying to
kick the rebel scum off, but the suit was too heavy. Blade relaxed as
if he had spent all of his energy resisting the armored rebel.</span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
“<span style="font-family: "liberation" serif , serif;">Listen
to me, you must work for Admiral Robinson, the man is insane! The
people of Sync just want to be left alone, they don't want to be at
war against the Free Republic. They just want out,” Tom Grier tried
to explain.</span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
“<span style="font-family: "liberation" serif , serif;">There
is no escaping from the Free Republic, traitor scum.”</span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
…</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
“<span style="font-family: "liberation" serif , serif;">Nobody
has to die, just some reasonable accommodation...” Tom was saying
before he noticed that the sniper was twirling a finger on a hand
Grier was holding against the roof. With a bad feeling he looked back
to see the sniper rail gun swinging around to aim directly at him.</span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
“<span style="font-family: "liberation" serif , serif;">Wrong.
You have to die!” The sniper screamed just as Tom Grier rolled
forward over the edge of the building and the loud blast splintered
the whole edge of the rooftop and top floor. Grier had fallen two
floors before the building moved outward and he crashed through a
glass ceiling.</span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-family: "liberation" serif , serif;">He
looked up to see the sniper gun itself fall over the rooftop as well.
Tom didn't see any sign of the sniper himself. Grier moved through
the empty office and crashed through the door into the corridor and
wondered briefly if the lifts would be working.</span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-family: "liberation" serif , serif;">Tom
Grier began descending the stairs but when he reached the tenth floor
landing that oversaw the grand lobby below, he became the target of
two armored figures. He hadn't had time to use his QBR-44 on the roof
but it was still attached to the back of his armored suit. He pulled
it forward.</span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-family: "liberation" serif , serif;">The
glass partitioned had been shattered by the firing from below. Many
of the rounds were coming up through the floor and they were often
too accurate. Again Tom missed the enhancements that would let him
take out those enemies without even having to see them.</span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-family: "liberation" serif , serif;">Instead
he rolled toward the edge peered over with the gun at the ready and
let go a twenty-round burst that shattered furniture and desks all
around the two enemy soldiers. They had moved away behind a thick
pillar and this gave Tom time to move down two more floors.</span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-family: "liberation" serif , serif;">The
glass partition had already been shattered when he arrived. Again the
two armored figures opened fire on his position, forcing him to
retreat toward the far wall. He selected explosive rounds on his
battle rifle, he was running out of other ammunition. He walked up to
the edge and fired a dozen explosive rounds downward.</span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-family: "liberation" serif , serif;">The
two figures tried to find cover behind a pillar and a low wall, but
the explosive rounds were able to track and change course. The
resulting explosions left a gaping hole to outside in the corner of
the building, but the load-bearing pillar seemed mostly intact.</span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-family: "liberation" serif , serif;">After
reaching the ground floor Tom Grier didn't bother looking at the two
armored suits that had been torn apart as he walked through the hole
he had made. His battle rifle was nearly out of ammunition and he was
tired. The suit required a lot more work without the enhancements
that the rebels had removed from his head.</span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-family: "liberation" serif , serif;">He
found two men in civilian clothes on their knees with their hands
behind their heads. They were surrounded by a half-dozen well-armed
men without armor. When they saw Tom, two of them aimed their guns in
his direction.</span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-family: "liberation" serif , serif;">Suddenly
a familiar face walked in front of him. General Gallant, who carried
no weapon.</span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
“<span style="font-family: "liberation" serif , serif;">This
battle is over! Just leave,” The General told him. Tom would have
taken him up on that quickly if Maggie Anders hadn't entered his
field of vision.</span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
“<span style="font-family: "liberation" serif , serif;">Maggie?”
He asked, immediately realizing it was a mistake.</span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-family: "liberation" serif , serif;">She
looked surprised and then shocked. Her hand soon covered her mouth.</span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
“<span style="font-family: "liberation" serif , serif;">You
know each other?” The General asked, seeming amused, then to Tom,
“The shuttles, our shuttles, will be here in a minute. You might
want to become scarce. Unless you're coming back with us, that is.
Which side are you on?”</span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
“<span style="font-family: "liberation" serif , serif;">Tom!”
Maggie said, “Come back. Come back to the ship with us.”</span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-family: "liberation" serif , serif;">Tom
opened the faceplate shield so they could see him. Maggie gasped. “I
didn't defect, I was captured. They removed my implants.”</span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-family: "liberation" serif , serif;">General
Gallant made a face, “We can repair the damage.”</span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-family: "liberation" serif , serif;">Tom
tightened his jaw. “This war is wrong, General. These people just
want to be left alone,” He said.</span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-family: "liberation" serif , serif;">The
General was impatient, “You and I don't make those decisions,
soldier. We just follow them.”</span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-family: "liberation" serif , serif;">Tom
shook his head, Maggie stepped back. “I can think and feel for
myself without the interface with the system, you know. The implants
were the damage to my face. I think I know which side I belong to
now.”</span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
“<span style="font-family: "liberation" serif , serif;">Tom,
no, no...” He heard Maggie cry as he turned and ran away at top
speed.</span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
…</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-family: "liberation" serif , serif;">Lieutenant
Blade had crawled to the edge of the city where the Fleet shuttles
had landed. A trail of blood was left behind him. Then Bolton had
found him and helped him climb aboard. His legs and left forearm were
pretty useless.</span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
“<span style="font-family: "liberation" serif , serif;">The
others?”</span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
“<span style="font-family: "liberation" serif , serif;">They
didn't make it, three are dead I think. some were taken into custody
by the Marines,” Bolton reported. Admiral Robinson was going to be
furious.</span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-family: "liberation" serif , serif;"> ------<a href="http://flscifi.blogspot.com/2016/06/escape-from-free-republic-chapter-nine.html">Chapter Nine</a></span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<span style="font-size: xx-small;"><a href="http://flscifi.blogspot.com/2016/06/escape-from-free-republic-chapter-seven.html"> </a></span><br />
<span style="font-size: xx-small;"><a href="http://flscifi.blogspot.com/p/book-page.html">My Books</a><a href="http://flscifi.blogspot.com/p/book-page.html"> Page</a></span><br />
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
GeronLhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13145189615256636055noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5787869099782509690.post-12830968813823602972016-06-12T07:43:00.000-07:002016-06-16T01:01:36.385-07:00Escape From The Free Republic - Chapter Seven<span style="font-size: x-small;"><a href="http://flscifi.blogspot.com/2016/06/escape-from-free-republic-chapter-six.html">Chapter Six</a></span><br />
<span style="font-size: x-small;"><a href="http://flscifi.blogspot.com/p/book-page.html">My Books</a><a href="http://flscifi.blogspot.com/p/book-page.html"> Page</a></span><br />
<br />
<div style="text-align: center;">
<b>Chapter Seven</b></div>
<br />
<style type="text/css">P { margin-bottom: 0.08in; }</style>
<br />
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
“<span style="font-family: "liberation" serif , serif;">It
works exactly like the Marine armor except you don't need your
implants and you aren't controlled like a robot,” Sandy told him.</span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
“<span style="font-family: "liberation" serif , serif;">It
<i><span style="text-decoration: none;">is</span></i> my Marine
armor!” Tom Grier said, examining the changes they had made to it,
“What is this?”</span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-family: "liberation" serif , serif;">Sandy
pointed out the changes, “More powerful boosters, this armor could
almost fly. The weight has been reduced significantly by removing
much of the armor.”</span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-family: "liberation" serif , serif;">Tom
didn't think that sounded very good.</span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
“<span style="font-family: "liberation" serif , serif;">Tom,
you were trapped inside, remember? You could not move without the
powered systems, it just weighed too much.” she told him, “It
will mimic your movements instead of reading your mind, that will
probably take some getting used to.”</span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-family: "liberation" serif , serif;">He
frowned, “What about the gun? Can I still use the QBR-44?”</span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-family: "liberation" serif , serif;">Sandy
nodded, “The actuators are still in place, it can carry the big
gun. Just remember that the shells will hit what they are aimed at.
They won't guide to target on their own, since you no longer have
those implants. You'll need to do some practicing, but this cavern
isn't really equipped for that.”</span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-family: "liberation" serif , serif;">Tom
put his hand to his face again. The entire left side seemed ruined, a
thick patch covered where his left eye should be. That had been taken
by the Free Republic when the implants went in, now he missed it
although he emotionally blamed it on the rebels. </span>
</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-family: "liberation" serif , serif;">The
implants and the control wave from the Free Republic Marines had
given him a false bravery, allowing them to send people into battle
who would normally have been too afraid to go. Human beings became
automatons, just drones for the brass to use.</span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-family: "liberation" serif , serif;">Two
soldiers approached and saluted Sandy, they conversed on their suit
radios and Tom heard nothing before the soldiers marched away. Their
footsteps echoed across the cavern.</span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
“<span style="font-family: "liberation" serif , serif;">Most
of the civilians made it to safety, Tom!” She told him after the
helmet on her suit retracted, “Some of my men are on their way back
here. We're going to need to strike back hard and fast before they
think we've been defeated.”</span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-family: "liberation" serif , serif;">She
started walking back toward the train. Tom watched and shook his
head. Sandy still looked and sounded like a child to him, even if she
was intelligent. He still had no idea how she could be a leader of
the resistance here on Sync, but it didn't appear to be faked.</span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-family: "liberation" serif , serif;">As
far as Tom could see, though, this was a losing effort. There was
nothing about this situation that should give these rebels hope of
victory. They had just barely escaped from their last base as it was
pulverized from orbit. Admiral James “Jim” Robinson must have
gone completely over the bend, the rumors of his mental state must
have been true.</span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-family: "liberation" serif , serif;">He
left the armored suit standing where it was and followed Sandy back
to the tent next to the train where she was watching a holographic
video. It was much smaller than the one which had filled a room back
in the old base, but as he approached he saw what she was studying.
It was a holographic representation of where the fleet was, up in
high orbit.</span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
“<span style="font-family: "liberation" serif , serif;">Sandy,
you can barely scrape together enough armor for a hit and run attack
on the ground, why are you looking at the fleet. We can't reach
them.” He told her.</span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-family: "liberation" serif , serif;">She
smiled, “Tom, you only saw one base. That wasn't the entirety of
the rebellion on Sync, you shouldn't assume things. There are bases
all over, I won't give you any details right now, but I am very
serious. The fleet needs to be hit, we need to show them that we
won't be treated this way.”</span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-family: "liberation" serif , serif;">Tom
shook his head. “Sandy, you will need ships to reach the fleet.
They'd be detected in seconds and destroyed before they even left the
atmosphere. Most of your ships were taken out on the ground before
they were even manned.”</span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
“<span style="font-family: "liberation" serif , serif;">Assuming
again, Tom,” She told him, “I'm glad that the fleet fell for that
ruse so completely. Those ground-based defense ships were all ancient
and obsolete. They were sitting there without crews because they were
mothballed generations ago. They couldn't have flown anyway.”</span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-family: "liberation" serif , serif;">Tom
was confused. She smiled again, “Our real ships are better hidden.”</span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
“<span style="font-family: "liberation" serif , serif;">So,
you do have the resources to strike back at the fleet then?” Tom
asked. She just nodded.</span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-family: "liberation" serif , serif;">Several
soldiers approached again. “We received a coded emergency message
from one of our spies.”</span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-family: "liberation" serif , serif;">Spies?
Tom was shocked.</span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-family: "liberation" serif , serif;">Sandy
activated her helmet and indicated that they use radio, after a few
minutes the others left and her helmet deactivated again.</span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
“<span style="font-family: "liberation" serif , serif;">This
is bad news.”</span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-family: "liberation" serif , serif;">Tom
pretended not to care, “Oh, I wouldn't know.”</span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-family: "liberation" serif , serif;">Sandy
paced. “It seems that Admiral Robinson has sent some agents into a
city where leaders of the rebellion are planning to hold a
conference. We let some things slip on purpose, it was to be a very
low-level meeting, there have been many of those, and nothing for the
fleet to really worry about. In truth, it's a high-level meeting and
somehow the Admiral found out.”</span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
“<span style="font-family: "liberation" serif , serif;">What
can be done about it?” Tom asked, “If there is nothing we can
do...”</span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
“<span style="font-family: "liberation" serif , serif;">We
have to warn them, but they are already in Valla and we can't
communicate with them except in person. I'm going to need to send a
team to stop Robinson's people from slaughtering them all,” Sandy
said as she paced, “I can co-ordinate with some of the other rebel
groups, have hit-and-run attacks in other regions to draw their
attention. Anyway, this is really going to be more of a rescue
mission.”</span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
“<span style="font-family: "liberation" serif , serif;">Rescue?”</span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
“<span style="font-family: "liberation" serif , serif;">We
need to save them.”</span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-family: "liberation" serif , serif;">Tom
shook his head, “You told me the rebels didn't really have leaders.
I was told that if someone dies others will take their place without
a problem. Now you want to carry out something dangerous to save some
of these interchangeable leaders. Something smells bad.”</span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
“<span style="font-family: "liberation" serif , serif;">Tom.
My father and my older sister are going to be there. They are also
group commanders and they have no idea that the enemy knows what's
going on in Valla,” Sandy said, “We are going to try and stop the
fleet people from killing them.”</span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-family: "liberation" serif , serif;">He
was a bit shocked, “So this rebellion is like a family business?”</span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
“<span style="font-family: "liberation" serif , serif;">My
family was very trusted on this world. When things got really bad, we
stepped up. My father appointed all of his children to head rebel
groups, because he knew we could do it. We are going to intervene and
stop this slaughter, and then we are going to attack the fleet
directly,” Sandy told him, “My mind is already made up. Go get
your suit on.”</span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-family: "liberation" serif , serif;"><b>City
of Valla</b></span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-family: "liberation" serif , serif;">The
once thriving city and regional hub was now more of a ghost town.
People still lived here but they ventured outside as little as
possible. When a half-dozen of Robinson's people had showed up, they
didn't know a ripple had been created. The people of Valla were aware
that these newcomers were not like others from Sync.</span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-family: "liberation" serif , serif;">None
of the newcomers had paid the slightest attention to the mural in the
hotel lobby, opposite the main desk and the entry to the ground-floor
restaurant. The images of the settling, founding and independence of
Sync was almost a holy monument to Sync nationals. They also used
rough language that even the most weary rebels didn't use.</span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-family: "liberation" serif , serif;">They
might think they were incognito but they stood out like an white
obelisk in a black desert. </span>
</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-family: "liberation" serif , serif;">When
a second group of outsiders took up rooms at a hotel across the main
avenue, there was a new ripple of gossip started. Something big was
happening in Valla and it might be a good idea to just pack up and
leave if one was able.</span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-family: "liberation" serif , serif;">Maggie
Anders closed the circuit and the window turned opaque again as she
turned to face the General who was sitting on the bed next to the
open trunk. He was assembling some weapons.</span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
“<span style="font-family: "liberation" serif , serif;">Why
is it so quiet down there? It almost looks like the city has been
abandoned, but we know from sensor readings it hasn't,” She told
him.</span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-family: "liberation" serif , serif;">The
General frowned, “Scared, I suppose. The war has ground commerce to
nearly a halt, people are staying home and making their meager
resources stretch. Pretty much the same for any war.”</span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-family: "liberation" serif , serif;">Maggie
looked down at the carpet, “Why are we here? You aren't going to
fight against the Admirals forces, even if he's insane we're still on
the same side, so why come?”</span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
“<span style="font-family: "liberation" serif , serif;">The
truth is, I plan to arrest his people after they carry out their
attack. Robinson is stepping on too many toes and he needs to be put
back in his place. His place is running the fleet, not running the
war and especially not the ground war,” General Gallant told her.</span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-family: "liberation" serif , serif;">She
took a deep breath, “Why did you come here personally? Is it
because you want Robinson to know you are the man in charge around
here?”</span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-family: "liberation" serif , serif;">He
smiled creepily, “Damn right. Robinson needs to be put in his
place, I'm the one to do it. He won't feel like a loser if it is
anyone else. If we have to shoot some of his men for resisting
arrest, then so be it. If that old fool wants to throw a big enough
fit, I'll have him thrown into the brig, without his chair.”</span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
“<span style="font-family: "liberation" serif , serif;">So,
this should all be over by morning,” Maggie said, noting that the
rebel meeting was supposed to start in only a few hours. Apparently
these rebels had no idea that the Fleet and the Marines had learned
of the meeting and infiltrated the city covertly.</span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
…</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-family: "liberation" serif , serif;">The
train had stopped nearby where it was still too deep for the fleet
sensors to penetrate. After that Tom, wearing his suit, had joined a
dozen other soldiers and Sandy in walking. Now that they were getting
nearer the surface and Valla was a stones throw away, Tom was
nervous.</span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-family: "liberation" serif , serif;">The
suit did not anticipate his movement, Tom had to move and the suit
would move with him. It took more effort than it had with the mind
linked. He also noted that fear and nerves were present, something
that signals from the fleet through the suit would have blocked
completely. Tom also had to actually read the HUD readouts because he
didn't <i>know</i> them automatically.</span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-family: "liberation" serif , serif;">More
than anything, the idea of going into combat against Marines scared
him. He still thought of their system as superior. He still thought
the rebels were fighting a losing effort. Tom didn't know if he could
ever return to the fleet without his implants or ever return home
under the present regime of the Free Republic. So he would fight, for
now at least, he would fight for Sync. </span>
</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
“<span style="font-family: "liberation" serif , serif;">We
are nearly in range for local communications,” He heard Sandy say
over the com. He knew she planned to alert her father immediately
that the enemy had found them out. Tom didn't know what would happen
afterward but the Admirals people were not going to be happy if the
meeting was canceled.</span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
“<span style="font-family: "liberation" serif , serif;">We
are just below the surface now,” She informed them, “Hold here. I
think we should be under one of the outer buildings, this must be the
Crest building.”</span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-family: "liberation" serif , serif;">Tom
looked up and thought it still looked like caverns. “Is there a way
out?”</span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
“<span style="font-family: "liberation" serif , serif;">Another
fifty meters and we can exit to the surface in the Garden,” one of
the other soldiers told him.</span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-family: "liberation" serif , serif;">The
city of Valla was surrounded by domed gardens, these acted as
greenhouses where a lot of the local vegetables and fruits were
grown. Tom knew that some of the gardens had been destroyed, he
remembered at least bombing run by Onyx flight early in the fighting.
It had just been chatter before, now he was part of it first hand. It
certainly seemed a lot more real now.</span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-family: "liberation" serif , serif;">Once
they arrived at the hatch it took several armored soldiers to push it
open and then they slipped up and out. Tom followed and rolled out of
the opening to see himself surrounded by trees and high grass and he
could see the broken dome that surrounded them.</span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
“<span style="font-family: "liberation" serif , serif;">Okay,
we have to cross toward the center of town. We will probably get
detected before we arrive at the conference hall. Be on the lookout
and be careful, they might have someone in a sniper position
somewhere. We might not even know where they all are,” Sandy
explained to them, “The reports I have just gotten say that two
rooms in the Banner hotel have been occupied by outsiders. My sources
indicate that no armor was seen.”</span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-family: "liberation" serif , serif;">That
was good news, but it wouldn't take a half-hour for armored troops to
arrive if the enemy wanted them there. Hopefully it would give them
time to rescue the rebel leaders, and if the enemy wanted to fight
armored rebels they could leave them with bloody noses.</span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
“<span style="font-family: "liberation" serif , serif;">Follow
me,” Sandy told them, suddenly holding a smaller, slimmer rifle
than everyone was carrying. Tom hadn't seen where it had come from.</span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
…</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-family: "liberation" serif , serif;">Lieutenant
Rocky Blade had assembled the battle rifle and tripod. He was on the
roof of the Starrion building near the center of Valla. It was the
tallest building in the city and he had a birds-eye view of
everything.</span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
“<span style="font-family: "liberation" serif , serif;">Assets
in place?” He asked through the implanted com system.</span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
“<span style="font-family: "liberation" serif , serif;"><i>Roger
that.</i>”</span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
“<span style="font-family: "liberation" serif , serif;">This
is going to be fun,” Blade told himself. He had already sighted the
eight-foot rail gun on the location of the rebel meeting. It was a
former library, apparently. With the others in their place it was
only a matter of waiting for the rebel leaders to show up, then he
would unleash hell.</span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-family: "liberation" serif , serif;">The
rail gun fired a large “bolt” at such high velocity that it would
be able to go through the building as if it were made of butter.
Shards from the building would radiate out like a grenade, tiny
pieces of sharp metal, plastic, marble, concrete and plaster that
would tear flesh. If a person were hit by the bolt itself, they'd
basically explode. Blade planned to put a hundred holes into that
building, nobody would escape the onslaught.</span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-family: "liberation" serif , serif;">All
eyes on the meeting hall.</span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
“<span style="font-family: "liberation" serif , serif;"><i>Birdie
Five to High Point.</i>”</span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
“<span style="font-family: "liberation" serif , serif;">This
is High Point, go ahead,” Lt Blade answered, not liking the
interruption.</span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
“<span style="font-family: "liberation" serif , serif;"><i>We
have movement to the southwest, possible enemy activity</i>.”</span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-family: "liberation" serif , serif;">Blade
sighed, “Are they on the way to the meeting? I thought they might
be staying somewhere closer.”</span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
“<span style="font-family: "liberation" serif , serif;"><i>Negative,
these are not meeting participants... I see something... we have
armored rebel troops inbound!</i>”</span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-family: "liberation" serif , serif;">Blade
grabbed the big gun and swung it around, “Send me the live signal,
I want to see where they are, now!”</span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
…</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
“<span style="font-family: "liberation" serif , serif;">We've
only got a couple blocks to go!” Sandy told them, “Anyone see
anything yet?”</span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-family: "liberation" serif , serif;">Nobody
had. Suddenly Tom Grier got a bad feeling. “I'm so stupid!”</span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
“<span style="font-family: "liberation" serif , serif;">What
is it Tom?” Sandy asked, stopping.</span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
“<span style="font-family: "liberation" serif , serif;">We're
too exposed, the Admiral probably has people on the highest ground.”
He told them, silence, “The rooftops, check the high rooftops!”</span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
“<span style="font-family: "liberation" serif , serif;">We
did, our drones didn't see anything anywhere near the meeting hall.”
someone answered.</span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
“<span style="font-family: "liberation" serif , serif;">They
won't be that close, check the highest buildings first. Send a drone
now!” Tom exhorted them.</span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-family: "liberation" serif , serif;">Suddenly
the wall of the building next to them exploded, a chunk of it hit Tom
and knocked him down but one of the other armored soldiers was thrown
several feet and a gaping hole had opened in the suit, blood and guts
had flown everywhere.</span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
“<span style="font-family: "liberation" serif , serif;">Move
fast, move!” Sandy yelled, “Do not stop! Get up Tom!”</span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
… --<a href="http://flscifi.blogspot.com/2016/06/escape-from-free-republic-chapter-eight.html"> Chapter Eight</a></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
</div>
<br />
<a href="http://flscifi.blogspot.com/2016/06/escape-from-free-republic-chapter-six.html">Chapter Six</a><br />
<a href="http://flscifi.blogspot.com/p/book-page.html">My Books</a><a href="http://flscifi.blogspot.com/p/book-page.html"> Page</a>GeronLhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13145189615256636055noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5787869099782509690.post-27581199131648148892016-06-12T01:11:00.003-07:002016-06-12T01:11:54.487-07:00Chronometer Brotherhood- Short Story<a href="http://flscifi.blogspot.com/p/book-page.html">My Books</a><br />
<br />
<div align="CENTER" style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<style type="text/css">P { margin-bottom: 0.08in</style><b>Chronometer Brotherhood
</b>
</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: center;">
<i>by Floyd Looney</i><br />
</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
“What be you goin' on about now, eh<span style="font-family: Liberation Serif, serif;">?</span><span style="font-family: Liberation Serif, serif;">”
The old man with few teeth asked the hag of a woman whose hair poked
out under a cloth cap like straw. Both dressed in dirty rags like
everyone else in this fetid city.</span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
“<span style="font-family: Liberation Serif, serif;">I
seen it!” She insisted, with a hiss and wide eyes as if she had
seen an apparition.</span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
“<span style="font-family: Liberation Serif, serif;">You're
making it up. Dreamin, I'd say,” the man told her. He looked back
and forth to see if anyone else was out and about and saw hardly a
soul, no one else paid them any mind. He almost made a start at
seeing a dead horse farther up the block.</span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
“<span style="font-family: Liberation Serif, serif;">No,
I seen it. I saw a room with lights and buttons...” She was saying,
the man grabbed her arms roughly and pulled her inside the shack.</span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
“<span style="font-family: Liberation Serif, serif;">Now
you listen, witch,” he told her, “Don't you be spreadin' these
stories, you hear</span><span style="font-family: Liberation Serif, serif;">? They
be the dragon people, you never talk about the dragon people. They
know if you talk about them, they'll find you and make you
disappear.”</span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-family: Liberation Serif, serif;">The
womans face bunched up into a hideous smile, “I not care if I
dis-pear. Life ain't worth nothing no way. If'n you want me to not
talk, you gives me food!”</span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-family: Liberation Serif, serif;">Dorgan
closed his eyes and sighed. Sure, he could give her some spuds and
maybe a couple turnips but she'd only be back for more in a couple
days. The old bat didn't know nothing about the Brotherhood, but she
had seen something she shouldn't have. Eventually, she was going to
have to be put out of action.</span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
Just not today.</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
“I give you some food, you forget
about the lights and the dragon people. If you be telling anyone,
they take your life away,” Dorgan told her, she didn't care. She
was just wanting the food, it was hard to come by these days.</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
He grabbed some spuds, turnips and an
ear of corn from the cupboard. Dorgan watched her stuff everything in
her pockets. She seemed happy as a clam. That night she would make a
stew of it and eat her fill. Dorgan pitied her, times were hard for
everyone, but it didn't make anything easier.</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
“Just don't be looking happy when you
leave! You'd be robbed before you walk to corner,” he told her as
he untied the rope and pulled the door open for her. After she left
he tied it up again. Then he went back to the kitchen and opened
another small door near the cupboard. It had a combination lock, he
set in the numbers and pulled it open.
</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
Inside there was a ladder that went
down. He climbed down the forty rungs to the bottom and turned
directly around toward the only door that wasn't impending death. It
was barely lit, but there were eight doors all around the tiny
chamber. Only one wouldn't kill you.</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
He pulled it open and found himself in
the antechamber and needed a different code for the door he found
there. After he punched it in, he opened it and entered the hive.
There were six members of the Brotherhood at the display units, one
of them looked up.</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
“Dorgan, you could have just slit her
throat and been done with it,” The clean-shaven younger man said
with a grin, “You might have to do it in a few days anyway.”</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
“We won't miss a few potatoes.”</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
The man laughed, “Of course not. Now
get out of those stinking rags and get in uniform, we have a meeting
soon about the situation in London. It seems one of the little
princes is about to be killed in an attempted regicide by an uncle
seeking the throne.”</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
Dorgan shook his head. “Can we fix
it<span style="font-family: Liberation Serif, serif;">? If we save the boys life,
does he grow up to kill his brother for the throne?”</span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-family: Liberation Serif, serif;">The
young man shrugged, “Not my call. Whatever makes more future
profit, I guess.”</span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
The conference room was full of blue
short-sleeves and white name-tags. Dorgan was the oldest one present,
his job as Topside Liaison brought him into contact with outsiders,
where age brought a certain amount of respect.
</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
“Prince Hubert, brother of the King
who is about to kick the bucket, is going to make a play for the
throne as soon as the death is confirmed. He has one of his loyal
swords working in the royal dining room, this man is instructed to
kill Prince James and Prince Charles at the signal,” The mid-30's
Chief told those gathered, a large screen behind him had images of
the people he named, or “players” as the Brotherhood called them.</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
“We know that he'll have time to kill
only one and that he kills Charles in most of the time-lines that we
have surveyed. Which normally leads to King James who almost always
rules pretty wisely, but not always. This time we want to try
something new. Instead of seeing James killed, which never worked
well, we want to see both boys survive.”</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
The people around the room muttered to
each other and some people were nodding their heads.</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
The man opened a folder, “I think it
would be best to send Lester to work at the castle, we have an “in”
of course. Lester is trained in sword fighting and since he knows
what is about to happen, he can get the drop on Hubert's assassin and
pin the blame on Hubert as well.”</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
Lester hadn't been topside before.
Dorgan stood up, “Isn't he a bit green to be sent on such an
assignment<span style="font-family: Liberation Serif, serif;">?”</span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-family: Liberation Serif, serif;">The
Chief nodded slightly, “Well, that is true, and we have recognized
that. This is why we aren't sending him alone.”</span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-family: Liberation Serif, serif;">Dorgan
didn't like where that was going.</span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
“<span style="font-family: Liberation Serif, serif;">Which
is why you are going with him.”</span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-family: Liberation Serif, serif;">And
there it was. What rotten luck. Dorgan wished to spend as little time
up top as necessary but now he would be away for an extended amount
of time. This was not a good thing, the longer you were outside of
the stasis, the harder it was to get back in.</span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-family: Liberation Serif, serif;">The
King was ill and the retinue and courtiers were waiting hand and foot
for their ailing master, while gossiping about the future. Very few
paid attention to the boys who were woken, dressed and escorted
downstairs by their personal attendants.</span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
“<span style="font-family: Liberation Serif, serif;">Good
morning Charles,” A sunny James told his brother as they entered,
seeing each other for the first time since the previous breakfast.</span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
“<span style="font-family: Liberation Serif, serif;">Hello,
James.” Charles answered. Both boys were worried about their
father, the King, but Charles was having a harder time putting up a
brave face. Dorgan could tell from all the way across the room as he
started stirring the porridge again. Several other servants scuttled
about, and there was Lester near the window in a ridiculous uniform
with frills about the neck, Dorgan thought it looked clownish.</span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-family: Liberation Serif, serif;">Suddenly
there was a shout upstairs and the sound of a breaking vase. One of
the guards moved away from the door and strode quickly toward the
boys who were still surprised by the noises, thinking it had to do
with their father. The guard pulled out his sword as he walked, then
Lester did the same moving from the other direction.</span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
“<span style="font-family: Liberation Serif, serif;">Get
down!” Dorgan shouted and both boys suddenly became alert and
climbed under the table just as Lester and the guard swung their
swords at each other. It was Lester who took the brunt and lost his
balance, then the other man took advantage and slashed Lester on his
sword arm at the shoulder, causing him to drop his sword.</span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
“<span style="font-family: Liberation Serif, serif;">Stop!”
Dorgan shouted and threw a container of hot porridge at the
swordsman, which hit him in the face as he looked for its source. The
hot stew burned him too and he screamed as he dropped the sword to
try and wipe it off of his skin. Dorgan swiftly moved and shoved a
large knife into the mans gut, upward toward the vital organs.</span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-family: Liberation Serif, serif;">The
man collapsed and Dorgan helped him fall slowly and soon laid the
body on the floor.</span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-family: Liberation Serif, serif;">Young
James and Charles, still preteens were out from under the table when
many of the courtiers and servants ran into the dining hall.</span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
“<span style="font-family: Liberation Serif, serif;">Oh,
good heavens!” A school-marmish woman yelled and ran to the boys.</span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
“<span style="font-family: Liberation Serif, serif;">What
happened here?” An officer in the royal guards demanded.</span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
“<span style="font-family: Liberation Serif, serif;">That
man on the floor attacked us, these men saved our lives,” Young
James told everyone. Lester! Dorgan moved to where he was lying
against the wall cradling his bloody right arm. </span>
</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
“<span style="font-family: Liberation Serif, serif;">This
man is injured, he needs help.”</span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-family: Liberation Serif, serif;">Several
servants swarmed over and carried Lester away.</span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
“<span style="font-family: Liberation Serif, serif;">That
assassin was working for Prince Hubert,” Dorgan told them, “I've
seen them together.”</span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-family: Liberation Serif, serif;">Then
James and Charles got a good look at the dead man, “It's Taro!
That's Prince Huberts right-hand man!”</span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-family: Liberation Serif, serif;">The
newly crowned King James declared Dorgan as “Savior-Protector”
which came with a weighty medal around his neck and a pension of 20
pound a year. The King also asked Dorgan to stay, to act as a
surrogate father. Prince Hubert, who should have fulfilled such a
role, was set to be executed the next morning.</span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
“<span style="font-family: Liberation Serif, serif;">You,
as Regent, can help rule the kingdom until I'm old enough!” The boy
told him.</span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
“<span style="font-family: Liberation Serif, serif;">Me?”
Dorgan asked. He was going to reject the offer, he had to really, but
he saw a look swiftly cross Charles' face and vanish. Something about
that fleeting face made him think about it.</span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
“<span style="font-family: Liberation Serif, serif;">If
I may be of service, your majesty, I will do as asked. I do not know
how long I can remain in your service, but I shall obey.” He said,
kneeling.</span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
“<span style="font-family: Liberation Serif, serif;">Splendid!”
The boy king said, cheerily.</span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-family: Liberation Serif, serif;">Dorgan
had sent Lester back to the Brotherhood. There had to be some way to
fix this, he didn't want to spend too much time away from Stasis. He
was too old for this stuff and what did he know about being Regent
anyway?</span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
“<span style="font-family: Liberation Serif, serif;">Parliament
will approve, I think,” said one of the King's officers, then to
Dorgan, “I'll have some documents for you to look at before the sun
sets, Lord Regent. Do you wish to witness the execution of Prince
Hubert?”</span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
“<span style="font-family: Liberation Serif, serif;">Not
particularly. No. Unless it's one of my new duties, of course.”</span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-family: Liberation Serif, serif;">Lester
had one message for the Brotherhood, “Get me out of this mess.”</span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
end<br />
----<br />
<br />
<a href="http://flscifi.blogspot.com/p/book-page.html">My Books</a>GeronLhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13145189615256636055noreply@blogger.com0