Wrath of Axia (The Arcadian Jihad) (13 page)

“We’re in trouble, Evelyn. There’s an enemy Battlecruiser out there, and I’m afraid they’ve got us cornered.”

She paled. “So it’s all over?”

“It looks like it, yes. We’ve got one last throw. I’m going to try to jump into hyperspace to lose them, but they’ll probably blast us to atoms once our shields go down. We have to lower them to power up the fusion drive accelerators.”

“Surely any chance is better than no chance.”

“You’re right. Helmsman, maintain a zigzag course. President Tell, get back on the comms and try to hold them off for half a minute, that’s all we need. Weapons officer, hold your fire.”

He heard Tell begin talking to the Battlecruiser Magellan again while he busied himself getting them ready for the jump into hyperspace. Tell tried hard to delay them. Blas smiled as he heard him use another of the quotes that Tell always seemed ready for any occasion.

“Admiral, remember you are a free man now, with your own free will. Remember, it is said that, ‘freedom is the opportunity to make decisions...”

The grating voice of Admiral Voss overrode him.

“We know what you’re doing, you damned traitor. I won’t let you get away with it. You’re not going to escape into hyperspace. You have ten seconds to surrender. Otherwise we’ll finish you off with a full salvo, and you won’t survive without your shields. I’m counting down now, ten, nine, eight,”

“Keep him talking, Mr. President, just twenty seconds more.”

“Seven, six, five, four, three.”

A new voice came through the bridge speaker. “This is Marine Colonel Rafe Glen, acting Captain of the Heavy Battlecruiser Rex Salis. I don’t know what’s going on here, but I’m ordering both of you hold your fire. What in space are you doing, naval vessels firing on each other? It sounds like a mutiny!”

The huge Heavy Battlecruiser Rex Salis had appeared out of hyperspace. It was the flagship of Admiral Quentin Rusal in happier times. Their hopes surged, for its captain was Rafe Glen. He was a tough fighter who’d been with them during the thickest of the fighting to restore the Republic. The question was whose side would he be on now?

Blas had to choose. Carry on his desperate attempt to jump into hyperspace, or to wait and hope. But he remembered Rafe, remembered fighting shoulder to shoulder with him. Yes, he would wait and try to get him to listen to them. Before he could answer, Colonel Glen’s voice came back over the bridge speaker.

“Nebula, I’ll send a shuttle with someone to speak to you. Magellan, I’ll send a shuttle to you as well, so we’ll get this sorted out.”

“But Colonel, as the ranking officer in this…”

“Admiral, I don’t trust any of you at this moment. I’m in a Heavy Battlecruiser. I outgun all of you, so I believe that gives me all the rank I need. Might is right, isn’t that what people say? No one’s going anywhere until I’m satisfied.”

The Admiral argued, but he was trumped by the guns of a Heavy Battlecruiser. They watched the screens as two shuttles left the Rex Salis. One came to their ship and docked. Two minutes later, the familiar figure of Rafe Glen, grim faced and in the uniform of a full Colonel of Marines, stepped through the door onto the bridge. His shock was obvious when he saw who was on board the Nebula.

“President Tell, my God, I thought you were dead. Admiral Rusal, Captain Blas, what’s going on here?”

It took them five minutes to tell him what had happened to the man they’d fought to put into the Presidency. He grimaced.

“That’s an amazing story. You’re lucky I happened along. The Captain of the Rex Salis went sick, something he caught from a Corazonian prostitute, I think. I was the senior officer on board, so I took command.”

“It’s as well you did, they were about to shoot us out of space.”

“Yes, they were.” He sighed. “The question is what in space do I do now?”

They talked at length, but there was one argument that was irrefutable.

“Colonel Glen, who do you take orders from? That is the real question. Is it the President, Xerxes Tell? Or the man who tried to murder him to gain power.”

He nodded as he worked out where his loyalties belonged. The legal President of the Nine Systems was on this ship. Therefore he had no choice but to obey him.

“I agree with you, I’ll not support an illegal coup. I’ll order the Magellan to back off, that’s the first thing. But we have some die-hard Bartok supporters in my crew. They’re fanatics, every one of them, so the next move is to put them in the brig. Fortunately there aren’t too many of them. My marine contingent is all veterans from our own side.”

“So I take it you’ve joined us, Colonel Glen?” Tell asked.

Rafe gave him a sincere look. “I never left you, Sir. Not knowingly, anyway.”

“Good, I thank you.”

Blas interrupted them. “Rafe, we need to land on Cadmus to link up with Berg Smetana and his men. He’s down on the planet somewhere. Can we rely on you to stay in orbit and watch our backs?”

“I sure will. Berg Smetana, eh? That’s a man we need to have on our side. Anything else?”

“What are you carrying on your ship?”

“My marine force of a thousand men and two hundred armored surface fighting vehicles.”

Blas grinned. “The ASFVs could come in useful. We’ll let you know about those. In the meantime, would cover us and make sure we don’t get any more unexpected surprises.”

They shook hands and Glen returned to his ship. He had a furious and very public row with Admiral Voss on the comms system, but ended it by threatening to turn his guns on the Magellan if they didn’t leave the area.

“I’m sorry, Admiral Voss, but I will not shoot on a ship that may be carrying our lawful President. Until this is sorted out to my satisfaction, they will be allowed to land on Cadmus and go about their business.”

“You’ll be sorry, Colonel. I have a diplomat to collect from Cadmus. We’re to transport her direct to Axis Nova. When I reach there they’ll hear about this, Colonel, and you’ll be ruined.”

“We shall see who’s ruined, Admiral. Now clear the area before I order my gunners to open fire.”

The Nebula landed at the spaceport of Settler City, capital of Cadmus. Founded during the minerals boom of the previous century, the place still had something of the ramshackle and temporary about it. Rusal ordered Lieutenant Largasse to stay on board with Waite Fallon and Karl Vansen.

“It’s quite simple. Rafe Glen’s ship should be enough to dissuade them from trying to seize the Nebula. But if they do attempt to board, I want you to take off at once. If you use the ship’s automated systems, you’ll be able to get into orbit and wait there until Rafe sends you more crewmen to fly the ship. I don’t want to travel back to the spaceport and find they’ve seized our only means to get off the planet. If you do have to take off, we’ll arrange another rendezvous.”

Largasse nodded. “We’ll keep a careful watch, Captain. They won’t take the ship.”

“Good.” Blas shook hands with them and his party walked down the ramp.

Shortly before, Rafe Glen had forewarned the garrison commander of their arrival. He wasn’t happy, after monitoring the exchange of signals in space, and tried to argue with Colonel Glen.

“This man could well be an impostor, allowing him to land is tantamount to treason.”

“And if he isn’t an impostor, if his story is true, refusing him permission to land is tantamount to treason, Commander. You will treat the Nebula as a diplomatic ship under my protection. Do not interfere with it, unless you wish me to turn my guns on your garrison.”

“I warn you, I shall contact Axis Nova for confirmation,” he snapped back.

“For confirmation from a murderer, an impostor? What kind of confirmation is that?”

There was no reply and Glen left it hanging. If the man changed his mind and attacked Tell’s party after they’d landed, they’d have to take care of themselves. He knew they’d shown themselves capable of it in the past. He waited and watched as the Nebula went into the approach path for the spaceport, hoping he wasn’t making a big mistake.

The landing of the Nebula was uneventful. The officials and troopers manning immigration had been forewarned to ignore the new arrivals. They put on their breathing masks and walked through the airlock into the terminal. A sullen immigration officer sat back and said nothing as they marched past his desk. Groups of soldiers stood around watching, but they made no effort to impede them.

“It seems that Colonel Glen’s order is holding,” Tell said to them.

“Until they get confirmation back from Axis Nova,” Rusal replied. “As soon as they do, they’ll come after us with everything they’ve got. The Rex Salis can protect the ship, but they won’t be able to monitor individual movements on the ground. We’re on our own, so I suggest we hurry.”

Seven eighths of the planet was covered in water. The transport system was by means of sealed, pressurized air trains, traveling from island to island. To save time and money, instead of bridges they used huge pipes that ran across the water to connect the two shores. The party bought tickets for Arta and boarded the train. It was battered and old, the seats split, evidence of its use as a work transport. There were few luxuries on Cadmus. The pressurized train pulled away from Settler City Station with a bone shaking series of jerks and began the journey across the planet. Unencumbered by breathing masks they watched the monotonous countryside through the thick visiplas portholes. The whole planet seemed to consist of an unending series of islands. They were surprised to see that some islands had defensive gun batteries, but they were not pointing up against an air attack; they pointed out to sea.

 
“What are they defending against?” Rusal mused.

No one had any answers. It was a mystery. But the biggest mystery of all was one they hoped to have answered soon, the whereabouts of Berg Smetana and his resistance fighters. If they failed to find them, their revolt could be lost almost before it had started.

As the journey went on, the sky became darker, reminding them that they were heading to the far side of the planet. The polar region experienced perpetual darkness for part of the year. Only for a short period each solar year did Arta enjoy daylight and then only for four hours each day. So harsh and inaccessible was the city of Arta that it was the site of the main planetary prison. Along the sides of their carriage were banners inviting citizens to work at the prison for high wages, motto ‘Arta Penitentiary, the prison that has never had an escape’. There were notices high up warning passengers what to do in case of sudden depressurization or breakdown under water. They did little to encourage passengers about the reliability of the Cadmus transport system. Neither did the announcement halfway through the journey hearten Tell’s party.

“Attention, all citizens. There has been an attempt to incite revolution on Cadmus. We have received orders from Axis Nova. The planet is now under martial law. Civil law is suspended and the military have been empowered to keep order. That means anyone suspected of breaking the law may be arrested and shot without trial by the Cadmus garrison. Citizens are advised to avoid unnecessary travel and obey the orders of the military. Martial law will continue until the emergency is over.”

Tell smiled. “It’s clever. What they’ll try to do is arrange to have our group accidentally shot.”

“In that case, they’d better make sure they’re well armed,” Blas replied. Underneath their long coats they all carried laser rifles, as well as laser pistols in their belts. The train hurtled cross-planet to Arta, entering the pressurized station only seven hair-raising hours after leaving Settler City. They left the train along with hundreds of other departing passengers. As they grouped around the arrivals gate, a massive, pressurized airlock that led into the city itself, Blas looked around to ensure that his group was together. Despite being helped along by Evelyn, Max was falling back. Before he could reach him there was a swirling movement in the crowed. As if by magic, a group of armed militia surrounded them. There was no time to draw their weapons as the men pressed in on them tightly. Blas felt a laser pistol pressing into his side and noticed the armband on the man’s sleeve, ‘Arta Defense Volunteers’. Militias were not professional troops, so he forced himself to relax. They still had a chance. They hadn’t even searched them for weapons. If they were patient and watched for the opportunity, they should be able to get away from these men as they were bound to be sloppy. Except that their behavior was anything but sloppy. There were four of them to each member of Blas’ group, and they pinioned their arms and blocked any movement other than in the direction they wanted their prisoners to go. Despite the militia armbands, it was odd. Blas realized that there was something of the trained soldier about these men. They could be plainclothes Security Bureau, disguised as militia, in which case they’d be difficult to overcome. His group was hustled into a side passage that sloped down, deep below the planet’s surface. They passed through airlock after airlock until they reached a large, underground room. More men were waiting for them. They fell on the prisoners and this time there was no mistake. They were thoroughly searched and disarmed. Their captors pushed them through another heavy plasteel door and it slammed behind them. This time the door was not an airlock; it was a cell door. They had been imprisoned. Tell looked at Blas and Rusal.

“I assume your plan has failed?”