‘Not a problem, General. Perhaps it’s for the best considering my track record.’
‘Very true. I shall arrange for the flight instructions to display your destination as the Martian Colony, for obvious purposes. If they knew where you were really going we’d have two court martials before you’d even left the System. We can coordinate an actual account over the next hour.
‘By the time you arrive on Rotavar, Captain, it will have been almost a month since the invasion. Truthfully, I don’t know what to expect. I know only that we have to help. What surveillance we do have tells us the blockading force has moved to the nearby Enusti Systems, leaving a possible ground force of thousands.’
‘They don’t think any help is coming?’ Ferranti asked.
‘No help is,’ Ruben replied with a glint in his eye. ‘The Cherished Star will be waiting to rendezvous with you once you reach the Fourth System. Though even together you will be outnumbered—’
‘But we both know if it were easy you wouldn’t be sending me,’ Ferranti said with unabashed assurance.
‘Another thing, Captain. The crew is to be briefed only once they have arrived in the vessel currently in orbit. Not before they leave the Twelve Cities.’
‘Understood. Normal routes?’
‘Of course,’ he said. ‘Stay away from any Impossible Vectors. Don’t go making any dangerous leaps. I’d rather have you reach Rotavar in six days and in one piece than in four and four thousand.’
‘Understood. Is there anything else, sir?’
‘Unfortunately yes, there is more,’ he said, unquestionably sedate.
‘What is it?’
Ruben exhaled. ‘The attack at the dock—’
‘Was not an assassination attempt,’ Ferranti finished.
The General found himself slightly taken aback. ‘Very astute, Captain. I wasn’t sure you’d believe the story.’
‘Of course not.’
‘Then you realise the device wasn’t meant to kill me, or even to destroy my craft, but to cause enough damage to the dock that we would be unable to prepare a proper counter-strike on Rotavar.’
‘Not to mention the damage it would do to our standing within the Alignment.’
‘Indeed. However the initial investigation swore to us that the explosives which destroyed the Quasar’s shuttle were placed inside the craft. What I was told before I called you tonight is that a grave error had been made when they gave us that report. This evening I have been informed by the in-depth analysis team that the explosives in question were without doubt those of the Dishan Alliance, but also that they were detonated and exploded on the outside of the shuttle.’
Ferranti’s face fell at the news. ‘That means—’
‘Yes, the explosives could not have survived our arrival scans if on the outside of the craft.’
‘So they were placed on after your return,’ Ferranti said. ‘Which means that those responsible are . . .’
Ruben nodded. ‘Still here.’
CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE
THE ORB BLAZED a horrifying black. Callista gazed around the enormous chamber and happened upon three figures. All were covered in some kind of deep-space gear, and they stood, awestruck, before the orb, ablaze in blackness. Somehow Callista knew that one was Anna Berenguer. Anna drifted toward the orb which seemed suspended in a mighty fissure between the black rock. There stretched a break between the chamber and the sphere, and Anna leaned over the opening to touch the colossal fire.
‘NOOO!’
Callista Berenguer woke abruptly from her sleep, senses dulled. Candles burned and flickered around her in a hue of furtive calm. Seldom did she wake so sharply, and neither did she stir before her dream had ended. Something had intruded. Something was wrong. Anna was in danger.
She persuaded her frail form off her bed and looked at the clock above her, recalling that the day was Anna’s birthday. It took some thirty-seconds before she realised that the sound of music filled the room. She moved to turn down the music, striking a match and lighting a couple of candles on her way. She left the small music-projector so that it continued to play softly.
It was an old piece of splendid strings, a grand waltz the likes of which she enjoyed many years ago. She recognised it as one Anna always asked her to play when the young girl’s curiosity for planet Earth was beginning.
Unsure as to whether she had unintentionally started it in her sleep she made to hobble over to her corner desk, which was cluttered with papers. When she heard movement in the dark behind her she turned sharply, unable to see a thing. She lifted her staff from the bottom of her bed and moved carefully across to where she’d heard the movement. Nothing there. Still sleepy, she continued over to the small, circular window, blocked out by a broad, makeshift screen; and she looked out into the dark of early morning. Nothing.
At once, strings resonated through the small space. The music she had turned down low began blasting out, shaking the ground beneath her. The screen slumped down, plunging her back into darkness, and she almost collapsed to the floor. Callista forced herself to focus and gazed out across the room connected to the one she was now in. Somebody was there. She could just about sense them. And there was no mistaking that dark cloud of malevolence.
The old woman’s eyes shot to the nearby door. She could make it out if she were quick. Breathing in deep, she darted immediately for the way out. Unfortunately, in her haste, she took the music-projector with her, sending it crashing to the floor. She froze in unsullied silence.
‘Did you think it would be that easy?’ a cold voice whispered from the next room.
Oh, no.
‘Say what you have to, Crilshan!’
‘Very good,’ the wraith said, creeping forward. ‘I knew you would see me that day. Even in a crowd of thousands a Iástron’s abilities are not to be underestimated.’
‘Don’t move,’ she uttered.
He kept walking.
How could he . . .
‘I have to say, old woman, how surprised I am that you didn’t go straight to your noble general with news of my presence. Thought you’d deal with me yourself, did you?’
‘Leave!’
‘Thought I’d be so easily removed?’
‘I am commanding you to go, FILTH!’
‘Oh, I will go. But first there is something I must do. You are the only one to have seen me. Dangerous position to be in, don’t you think?’ As he walked towards her, the candles nearby seemed smothered and went out, the growing dark concealing his face. ‘Now,’ he said, ‘I think you should sit down, Iástron. You don’t want to get hurt, do you?’
The elderly woman looked to her door as it groaned slowly open and two more dark figures entered. Little by little, she backed up, beginning to pant, dropping her staff, and wondering how she could ever get out.
She had indeed thought it possible to deal with the man herself; thought it better not to burden Ruben further when he had so much to deal with. She had scoured footage and reports of suspicious activities for the last two weeks since the attack, attempting with a determined effort to track the Crilshan down.
If she had known that he was not alone . . .
‘Do not enter!’ she told the other shadowy forms with what strength she could. But they did not stop.
‘Your tricks will not work on us, witch,’ the dark man said, amusement in his voice. His face was disguised by the dark, but she watched as he reached up and tapped on the ear coverings fixed over his head. ‘I’ve been watching you. I know all your secrets.’
She could hear her own heart beating wildly in the deathly silence that had fallen.
Then it happened. A breath touched the back of her neck. A hand took hold of her left arm forcefully. Another grasped her right. The figure laughed beside her. She couldn’t guess how many there were.
‘Try not to make too much noise,’ spoke the callous man. ‘This will most likely hurt a great deal.’
A sharp pain pierced her neck. She yearned to sc
ream out, filled with agony, but a hand covered her mouth. Her weakened muscles rippled into spasm. She could feel herself getting rapidly weaker . . . unable to breathe . . . powerless . . . incapable of crying for help. Her time had finally come. The cruel laughter around her faded and Callista fell into darkness.
CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR
GASPING FOR BREATH, Anna vaulted from her bed. Stood still in the fresh, cold light of early morning greeting her from the open terrace, she peered around. Something was wrong. Something . . . awful.
Panting and sweating wildly, she lay back down. Her dream had been more real than she had ever experienced it. No longer was the black-fired orb alone. She had been stood before it, drenched in light. But she hadn’t been there by herself; a tall, pale man had been there with her, just watching. And one word:
Gilaxiad . . .
It had been repeated, over and over, in a deep, thunderous voice. Whatever it meant, it terrified her. She turned over and closed her eyes.
Gilaxiad . . .
* * *
It began with a necklace.
Anna woke from what little sleep she had managed and, once dressed, stumbled down the steps leading from her bedroom, down to where her sister and uncle both stood, already dressed and sporting eager faces.
‘Happy birthday, dear!’ uncle Ruben cried.
‘Yeah,’ Gílana added. ‘Happy eighteenth birthday, Annie.’ She dropped down into the comfy couch behind her.
‘Thank you,’ Anna said, forgetting the nightmarish night and simply enjoying the attention. She lifted her sister from her seat and hugged her too. Her uncle had prepared breakfast, so she was as good as carried over to the table, which was complete with a vast muddle of fruit, cakes, and meats. All of her favourites.
‘So Anna,’ Gílana said as the three sat around the kitchen table, ‘what’s Gilaxiad?’
Anna almost spat out a mouthful of pear. She looked up to her uncle, who appeared interested. ‘It’s . . . err . . . I ‘unno,’ she replied with a full mouth. She swallowed slowly. ‘Where’d you hear that word?’
‘You were shouting it out in your sleep again last night.’
‘Again?’ Ruben said.
‘Yep, she’s been barking it out every night this week.’
Anna gave her little sister daggers. ‘Thank you. She’s also in the room!’
Ruben frowned. ‘Who is it then? A boy?’
Anna considered her answer. ‘Yes, it’s a boy . . . in my class. Andres . . . err . . . Gilaxiad.’
‘I see. Exotic name, isn’t it?’ he said, not wholly convinced.
‘Exotic?’ Gílana laughed. ‘It’s hilarious! You’d better hope Jon doesn’t find out you’re dreaming about another guy.’
‘You keep quiet, you!’ Anna told her, but Gílana and Ruben burst into laughter. Anna eventually succumbed and let out a smile.
‘Didn’t you invite Jon for breakfast?’ Ruben asked.
‘I . . . well . . . he had to work. He said he had things to do still . . . at the dock.’
‘Yes, I imagine it’s rather busy down there today. The first crafts will be launching in a matter of hours.’
‘Is Callista joining us?’ Anna asked, guiding the conversation away.
‘She should have been here by now actually,’ he replied. ‘I should call her, just to see when she’ll be arriving.’
‘Yes,’ she said. ‘Do that.’
She didn’t care what he did, provided he didn’t ask any more about Jon. She had avoided him for days, hoping he would change his mind about leaving. Hopefully he would be at Titan’s eight-hundredth celebration later that night. Maybe she could persuade him not to leave. She had no choice; she had to make him stay.
Ruben strolled over to the bookcase and went to raise the comm, but it clanged before he picked it up. He answered and his expression adjusted. ‘Yes,’ he said to whoever was on the other end. ‘Yes, today would be terrific.’ He held his hand over the comm, and looked at the girls gravely. ‘Excuse me,’ he said, before disappearing into the next room.
‘Think it’s about tonight?’ Gílana asked, taking a huge chunk out of a piece of burnt bread.
‘Perhaps.’ Anna frowned. ‘Security for tonight must be severe. The threat of another attack and all that.’
‘Hmmm,’ Gílana responded, not really listening. She was busy fooling around with something beneath the table. She looked up, grinned at Anna, and placed a beautifully-wrapped gift onto the table.
‘I was going to wait until later,’ Gílana said, ‘but . . . well . . . you know me. I can’t keep a secret for very long.’
Anna smiled and picked up the parcel. She opened it carefully to reveal a book, worn and dirty, bearing the image of a planet, beautifully blue and green, on the front cover.
‘I can’t see the appeal myself,’ she said. ‘But Callista told me you’d like it. Been trying to get it for ages. They don’t make them like that anymore.’
Anna beamed. ‘It’s brilliant!’
She flicking through the browning pages: A GUIDE TO EARTH . . . A LONG AND COMPLEX HISTORY . . . THE GREAT CITIES OF THE WEST . . . SEVEN RIVERS OF EURO . . . GIZA NECROPOLIS . . . THE VON: A FAILING LEGACY? . . .
‘I can’t wait to read it!’ She placed the battered book down and noticed another small box, no larger than her palm, positioned at the end of the mound of food. ‘What’s in the box?’ she asked.
‘It’s from uncle Ruben.’ Her sister leaned in closer. ‘It’s a necklace.’
‘The special one? The one Callista gave to him?’
‘Yep.’
‘You’re right,’ Anna said. ‘You’re terrible at keeping secrets!’
Gílana blushed and continued to eat her own breakfast quietly.
Before long the General marched back in, placed the comm back on the wall, and picked up a large, red apple. ‘Just my office,’ he said, crunching into the fruit. ‘I’m going to have to go in this morning. You know how things are.’ He looked to Anna.
‘Ah . . . okay,’ she said. ‘Did you contact Callista?’
‘No, no I didn’t.’
‘Are you going to?’
‘Yes, yes I will.’ He went to pick the comm back up, but again it rang before he was able. He swore loudly, before composing himself and answering. ‘General Berenguer here.’ His expression changed again. ‘I see . . . okay . . . thank you very much . . . oh yes, I shall!’
He slammed the comm back into place, frowning, asked Gílana to go to her room—which she did, albeit reluctantly—and walked over to Anna. She stood.
‘That was Vizor Guerrero calling from the Institute,’ he said, ‘ringing to inform me that you haven’t attended classes all week.’
‘I . . . I know I haven’t,’ she said.
‘And why is that?’
‘I . . . it’s hard to explain.’
‘Try. If it’s anything to do with what I do, with what you heard at the meeting the other day, then you have nothing to worry—’
‘It’s not,’ she said. ‘Well, it is. Sort of.’ She sat down, and he followed, placing his hands together on the table as he always did when concentrating.
‘You can tell me,’ he said, smiling kindly.
‘It’s just . . . I thought, with everything that’s happening . . . that you would stop me joining the Forces, stop me becoming a member of the Guard.’
Anna watched the smile disappear from his face. He did not reply.
‘It’s true!’ she cried. ‘You’re not going to let me!’
‘I’d hoped this could wait,’ he said, clearing his throat. ‘But with all this chaos at the moment, I just feel it’s too dangerous for someone so inexperienced to go throwing themselves at this.’
‘But I’m not inexperienced! Why else would you and Callista train me, if not to do this?’
‘We were preparing you. But you’re not ready—’
‘Of course I am! I’m willing to take the risk—’
‘But I am not!’ he said. ‘We
’ve already lost my brother . . . your father. We lost your mother when Gílana was born. I won’t let you risk your own life against those brutes.’
‘Isn’t it my choice?’
‘Not while I am general!’ he shouted, his frail face now such a deepening scarlet that it resembled his half-eaten apple. ‘You have no real idea what it’s like out there, Anna!’
‘I know,’ she said. ‘You never tell me.’
‘Because it makes me sick. People throw around the word terrifying with no thought. Out there it’s beautiful, yes. But also disgusting. Vile. Sickening . . .’
‘Then why do you go out there?’
‘So that you and everybody else don’t have to discover that for yourselves!’
Anna could not reply; she didn’t know what to say. He had promised. He never broke his promises. What would she do if not join the Guard? It had been her life: preparing to follow in her family’s footsteps. But what would be the point if she could not join when she would be needed most? All she wanted to do was help.
The General had joined the Guard at her age, after completing his studies at the Central Institute. He had done what was common at the time and joined the Guard, recruited to the interstellar vessel, the Quasar. He had made his way up the ranks quickly, and all who saw and spoke to him knew he did what he did with the greatest conviction. That’s all she had ever wanted.
Anna hung her head low and said nothing. Jon had been right. He knew her uncle would not allow her to do what she had always wanted. Now all she wanted was to see Jon.
Uncle Ruben took her hand and smiled weakly. Anna looked at him; once the picture of perfect health and strength, now weighed down by a darkness she both hated and feared. He reached across the table and picked up the small box containing the necklace, placing it between them.
‘It’s your birthday,’ he said calmly. ‘Focus on that. There’s a lot for you to be excited about, Anna.’ And, standing, he walked towards the door.
Anna’s father, Dathlan Berenguer, had attended the same Institute as his older brother. It was there that he met Nolkiet Odéto, with whom he fell madly in love. Soon after their marriage, Nolkiet had given birth to Anna. Sadly, Nolkiet departed three years later, while giving birth to Gílana. For her father and uncle, nothing had ever been the same after her death . . .