Planet like?”
“Nice try,” I replied. “Do I look that green? Like I was born yesterday? You will have to do better than that if you want to get anything out of me.”
“I was just making polite conversation, John. You shouldn’t believe everything Kronos and the Solarans are telling you, spoon feeding you with their lies. The Kaytons only want peace and friendship with the Solarans, I can testify to that. As we speak, the Kaytons are trying to open peace negotiations with the Solarans with no pre-conditions and with everything on the table up for discussion, as a good will gesture. What more could you ask for, John? I know from my contacts on Sontral that many members of parliament and even some ministers in the Cabinet would like to open negotiations with the Kaytons. It is that nasty, uncompromising Prime Minister and that vicious, vindictive Commander Vadoran who block every genuine peace attempt. In so doing, they are prolonging the war and hence the suffering on both sides.”
I pointed in the direction of the Drones. “So those men over there are not slaves, then?”
“They are nothing more than savages, John,” Wesker replied, “pacified for the duration of the conflict. Once the war has been successfully concluded they will gradually be released back into civilisation into what the Kaytons call their Greater Galactic Prosperity Sphere, hopefully in partnership with the Solarans.”
At last his readings were complete and he turned towards the Kayton lines, nodding to Drakos to confirm that Kev was the Guardianship and I was definitely the Guardian.
“Nice little yarn you have spun me,” I replied, “but I wouldn’t trust you or anything you have told me, any further than I could throw you. Can I go now? Some of us have homes to go to.”
As I stared at him in an agitated and impatient manner, he turned towards me one last time, saying in a very soft, disarming voice, “John, If you come back with me right now the Kaytons will give you power and wealth beyond your wildest dreams. They will be good friends to you.”
I stared him squarely in the eyes. “I can do without friends and I have had my fair share of unlimited power and wealth before and it did nothing but corrupt me, turning me into a nasty piece of work not even fit to lick my late parents’ boots. So if it’s all the same to you, I will decline your very generous offer.”
“If you change your mind, John, you know where to find us.”
“Don’t hold your breath; you could have a long wait.”
As we both parted company, making our way back to our respective parts of the line, Wesker looked at Drakos, shaking his head and saying, “No, he won’t join us.”
As for me, I was just glad it was all over as I made my way back to Kronos and the safety of the Solaran lines.
The Kaytons quickly decamped back into their ship, no doubt disappointed at not getting their own way. Firing up their engines, their craft hovered momentarily to retract the landing gear and then almost instantaneously they shot away into the distance on their long voyage back to Tyros.
Good riddance to bad rubbish, I thought.
“Well done,” Kronos said. “That all went off without a hitch.”
“Wesker asked me to join the Kaytons,” I replied. “He offered me fabulous riches if I turned.”
Kronos nodded. “I thought he would make you an offer. I can read the Kaytons like a book.”
“If I had accepted,” I replied, “would you have had me taken out by one of those snipers?”
Smiling and not answering me directly, he just said, “I knew you wouldn’t.”
That certainly made me think. Oh, it sent a shiver down my spine and made me wonder what the hell I had got myself mixed up in.
After thanking and saying goodbye to the crew, we Transported ourselves back to Sontral. Kronos wanted to Transport us both to the Prime Minister’s residence to inform him and Commander Vadoran what had transpired. However, I insisted we Transport directly into my living quarters. He could speak to the Prime Minister and the Commander later. I wanted a private word with him on my own and he reluctantly agreed to my request.
On arrival back in my quarters, Kronos said, “What is on your mind, John? Something is certainly bothering you. Spit it out; let’s have it.”
“You’re not telling me everything that is going on,” I replied. “Wesker said the Kaytons have offered the Solarans peace talks with no pre-conditions and everything on the table up for discussion.”
“Do you really believe that, John? It’s nothing more than a ploy to split the Solarans from their alliance with the Hellertrons. Yes, they might come to an accommodation with the Solarans but there will be no such treatment for the Hellertrons. The Kaytons may treat Solaran soldiers and civilians who fall into their hands with reasonable propriety, but the same cannot be said of the Hellertrons they capture.”
“What do you mean?”
“John, they put them to work in their war factories and farms… men, women and children, no distinctions made. There have also been reports of atrocities being committed against the Hellertron military and civilian population and while this behaviour is certainly not state sponsored, the Kayton authorities are definitely turning a blind eye to what is going on. That is everything laid bare on the table for everyone to see; you can take it or leave it, John. The choice is yours. Now if you will excuse me, I will make my report to the Prime Minister and Commander Vadoran as to how the Guardianship verification progressed. Make sure you get a good night’s sleep. Your mission training will start for real in the morning… be ready.”
We bade each other goodnight and I was left to my own devices for the remainder of the evening. As I lay in bed that night, I reflected on the day’s hectic events and contemplated what was in store for me tomorrow. I was determined to be a model pupil – teacher’s pet. Mind you, when I was at school all those years ago I hadn’t always been so. No way did I like doing sports, especially when it was cold, wet and windy in the middle of winter. In fact, I resorted to writing my own sick notes that went something like this:
Dear Teacher, please excuse John from sports because he has a bad cold.
I became very proficient at forging my mother’s signature. I remember when we broke up for the summer holidays in late July, we received our school reports. In the column for sports I got a double E for effort and attainment; the worst marks imaginable. Where it said teacher’s comments he had written, ‘John has had every illness it is possible to live with as an excuse.’ He actually said to me once, ‘If you were a horse I would have you shot.’ I never forgave Mister Linton for that. I hope he had a miserable retirement.
Ten
It had been early to bed and early to rise for me as I sat in the armchair first thing in the morning, waiting for my betters to arrive. On the appointed hour, Kronos and Commander Vadoran duly arrived, but on this occasion they had somebody with them I had not set eyes on before.
A slim, dark-haired figure of a woman wearing military fatigues approached me slowly and calmly.
“John, this is Freema,” Kronos said.
Extending her hand to shake mine, she said, “It’s a pleasure and an honour to meet you, Guardian John.”
“I can assure you, Freema,” I replied, shaking her hand, “the pleasure is all mine.”
“Now, John,” Kronos said, “Freema trains our agents in the use of firearms and explosives, just the sort of skills you will need to master. We thought she would be the ideal person to train you for the mission. She has been given the highest security clearance, having been briefed in full on the Majestic project. You and Freema now join the exclusive little group of people who now make up the Majestic Nine. Now I think the best thing Commander Vadoran and I can do is to leave you and Freema to get on with the job in hand. We will both pay you a visit in a couple of days’ time to see how you are progressing.”
We all then bade our farewells, Kronos and Commander Vadoran turning left after leaving my quarters to go back to the underground railway platform. Freema and I took a right in a
direction I had not gone before. We continued down what seemed an even longer corridor, obviously making our way to our training area.
“John, thanks for taking the trouble yesterday to go out and meet the Solaran people,” Freema said. “I know they really appreciated what you did. It is all over our news networks.”
“I try my best,” I replied, “but I don’t think I warrant all this attention.”
“People need something to cling on to,” Freema said. “Having both Guardians on our side is a real morale booster; we have had nothing but bad news since the Hellertrons collapsed.”
“Let’s hope things will change for the better soon, then,” I replied.
Freema asked me how my meeting had gone with the Kaytons yesterday.
“Pretty well. I think they are the biggest tyrants since Adolf Hitler on my home planet—”
Freema stopped us both dead in our tracks, putting her right index finger over my lips. In a very agitated voice, she said, “Never ever make any reference to your home planet again, John. If the Kaytons ever found out its location you could be sentencing all its inhabitants to certain death. That is what happened to Kronos’s home planet.”
“By the same mistake I just made?”
“No. Drakos betrayed him when he defected to the Kaytons, who immediately sent a battle squadron of ships deep behind Solaran lines.”
“Was everybody lost?”
“There were no survivors, John. Ten billion people killed, including Kronos’s wife and children. We intercepted and destroyed all the Kayton ships before they reached the safety of the Kayton lines. That was small comfort though for the national disgrace Drakos caused. Through his actions, the post of Deputy of S.I.S was abolished forever. Only Kronos, the Prime Minister and Commander Vadoran know the location of your home planet, John. Keep it that way for your people’s sake.”
I nodded in acceptance as we both made our way to our final destination, but this time in complete silence.
On reaching the security doors, Freema used her pass to gain entry and we both walked in.
“Lights on,” Freema said. As the whole room lit up, the doors closed behind us, reminding me of a large aircraft hangar because of the arched ceiling.
“Well, this is it, John. Your training ground for the next three working days. To the right is a firing range for weapons training. To your left is a mockup of the Drone Command Bunker Control Room, all specifications supplied by Adema, our deep cover agent on Tyros.”
“Do you know Adema personally?” I asked.
Freema nodded. “Yes, but I haven’t seen him for over three years. Since he embedded himself on Tyros he has had access to the Citadel for the last six months on various work details. To this day he remains our one and only operative on Tyros. He is confident he can get you and Kronos into the Drone Command Bunker on his work detail undetected. If all goes according to plan you should not get into a fire fight but you will have to clear two check points, one to gain entry to the Citadel and the second to gain access to the Drone command bunker itself. Once you have made your way to the control room proper, the technicians must be killed to stop them making emergency repairs. Hopefully any subsequent repair teams will arrive far too late. Next, the four charges will have to be placed very precisely and then, finally, you will need to do as much damage to the control panels as possible with your laser rifle. All this should sever the connection to the control beacon which lies on top of the Citadel. The rebellion should then begin bringing their whole empire down by crashing in on itself.”
“What is the opposition like in the Citadel itself?” I asked. “Just old men and boys, with the fit young men fighting on the various battle fronts?”
“I’m afraid not, John. You will be up against elements of the first strike division. It is three times the strength of a normal division. One third of it is always stationed on Tyros to protect the supreme Kayton Council as well as all their command and control assets in the Citadel. The division itself is mostly made up of Vogarans, turned into Drones from the conquered planet of Tau Seti. Of all the individual planets the Kaytons have subdued, Tau Seti gave them the hardest time… really vicious warriors. Even now, Tau Seti has the strongest resistance movement of any occupied planet. We reckon the Kaytons are having to station twice as many troops as normal just to keep the situation under control.”
“Do you supply them?”
“Yes,” Freema replied. “S.I.S supplies the resistance movements on all occupied planets with weapons and advisors. We use fast gun-running ships to get in and out as quickly as possible. I think, along with bomb disposal, they are the two most dangerous jobs in the Solaran armed forces. Another point that I think is worth mentioning is that all the governments from the occupied planets are operating in exile on Sontral or Rueatarn. But not so the government of Tau Seti; they are the only ones that are still on their home planet, directing their resistance movement on the spot. Such is their determination and devotion. They are also the only occupied planet to have succeeded in assassinating their Kayton Governor, although in retaliation terrible reprisals were inflicted on the civilian population. I’m afraid I have to tell you, John, the Drones you will be facing in the Citadel are the best of their best. That is why it is imperative you do not get into a fire fight with them.”
“You certainly know how to cheer a guy up,” I replied. As I digested the shocking information Freema had just told me I thought to myself, things just get worse and worse. How on earth am I going to extricate myself from this intolerable situation I now find myself in?
“To start with,” Freema said, “I will need to know what military training you have undergone so that I know what level to start you at.”
“Well that is simple. None whatsoever. My father was in the army for six years but my country abolished compulsory military service over fifty years ago.” Now to describe the look on Freema’s face as shocked would be an understatement.
“If you find somebody else, though, I will certainly help you train them,” I continued, trying to make light of the embarrassing situation I now found myself in.
“It is no joking matter, John,” Freema retorted. “I thought you would have at least had some basic military training.” She shook her head in disbelief. “We had better start on the firing range,” she continued.”
On our arrival at the range, Freema picked up a weapon. “Now, John, look closely. This is the Kaytons’ latest mark three pulse jet laser rifle, very light weight, very reliable and very deadly. This is what you and Kronos will be armed with on Tyros. Pay attention to my three cardinal rules; look, listen and learn. This switch is up for single shot, down for rapid fire. That is all you have to remember. To acquire a target, just align the eye piece to the end of the barrel tip, pick your target and squeeze don’t pull the trigger, got it?”
“Yes, I think so.” I laid down on my stomach, then on Freema’s command I started taking pot shots at the targets. After a few minutes I started to at least hit the outer part of the target and for me, that was an achievement. Then Freema knelt down beside me, trying to align me better with the target.
“Get a firmer grip,” she said, “the barrel is wobbling too much.”
“I know how it feels,” I replied. I persevered but not with much improvement.
“You have got to do better than this,” Freema said. If you can’t even hit a stationary target, how on earth are you going to be able to hit a moving one?”
I sighed despondently. “At least I’m trying; cut me some slack.”
The morning wore on but the hits on target only improved marginally. I was glad when we had a tea break. At least I got a rest from the constant nagging; it was worse than being married. As we made our way to the table I crept up behind her, touching her hair with my right hand.
“Oh, what nice curly hair you have, Freema,” I murmured.
The next thing I knew was, with lightning speed, she grabbed my right arm and then threw m
y whole body over her shoulder.
As I landed on the deck Freema, with a big smile on her face, said, “Consider this your first lesson in self-defence.”
“You cheeky little minx,” I replied. “I’ve heard of falling for someone but this is ridiculous… oh, my bad back is killing me. I don’t think I like your tone with me today, Freema.” I rose to my feet, joining her at the table to lick my wounded pride.
“I would rather you didn’t like me,” she replied, “and live to tell the tale rather than like me and come back in a body bag.”
She certainly gave me something to think about while we devoured our tea and sandwiches but, alas, break time was over all too quickly.
“Back to work now, John,” Freema said. “We will try you with a moving target.”
As we made our way over to the firing range I watched as she worked on the control panel, resulting in holographic silver-coloured human figures appearing and moving randomly in different directions.
“Very impressive,” I said. “How does it work?”
“You see the cameras on the ceiling? They are projecting the image you see on the ground and this dial controls their speed, which is on slow at the moment for your benefit. Now we will have you in the standing firing position.”
She helped me assume the correct firing position, rifle butt tight into my shoulder, right hand holding the appropriate part of the gun barrel.
“Off you go, John. Aim just ahead of your target and then squeeze the trigger.”
“Okay,” I replied as I tried in vain to hit what I called those dancing silver men. It was as if they were laughing at me, mocking me en masse.
“Come on, John. Come on, you’ve got to do better than this.”
“I nearly hit the one on the left,” I replied, still feverishly trying to hit at least one of those elusive sly little devils.
“No good, John. No good!” Freema exclaimed.
My patience finally snapped and I lowered my rifle. “I’ve had enough; let’s see you do any better!”
She angrily grabbed the rifle, turning her back on the targets to compose herself after our harsh exchange of words, telling me to count to three before she made her move. I was standing next to the control panel and I noticed the dial that regulated the speed of the targets. With a cheeky grin on my face because I was a bad boy, I turned the dial to maximum so that all the targets were moving as fast as whippets. Got you, I thought.
“One, two, three…”
With lightning speed, she turned on the targets, firing and hitting each one in quick succession. I could only look on, open-mouthed in amazement at her proficiency. Now she was the one with a big smile on her face as she threw the rifle back towards me.
As I grabbed it, she said, “Now it’s your turn. Let’s see you