While Gaal sat on the couch reading a book, Sam paced back and forth on the bare, living-room floor. His eyes were vacant as he stared into thought. His fingernails tapped rapidly on the butt of his phasor strapped to his right hip. He glanced from time to time at the front door of the small apartment. Finally, he came to a halt and reached with his right hand to massage his painful shoulder.
Fortunately, it had just been a severe sprain with no dislocation nor broken bones. "Where the hell is she?" he muttered to himself. He pulled on both handles of his long, red, handlebar mustache. Dahms had left the apartment three days ago with the intention of contacting Rogae X. Now that the three of them had escaped, they would never be able to go into public life again, at least, not until Hurd’s reign had come to an end. So, what were they going to do? Maybe hide out in the Mountain Nation. Everette would find a place for them, and they would do what they could to help the rebel cause from there. It would almost be impossible to continue hiding out in Newusa. Their freedom of motion would be greatly restricted now that they were being hunted. They didn’t know anybody in the other three major cities of Ar. So, that wasn’t much of a possibility. No, thought Sam, we’ll probably end up in the Mountain Nation. Rogae X will pull whatever strings he has to in order to get us safely out of Newusa and into a new hiding place.
Rogae X was high in the chain of command. He was a man of considerable power. It occurred to Sam long ago that Rogae X was probably one of the city councilmen. He had hoped, and thought it was probably his father—the only one of the city councilmen who would stand up to Hurd. He remembered the time Hurd was planning to tear out the city park and build a large military complex in its place. “It’s for the protection of our city,” he told the city council. But Sam’s father knew Hurd was planning to build another scent tower to insure his hold over the people, and more specifically, his hold over the rebels.
Juez would have none of that. He brought in several environmental experts.
Later, Sam discovered his dad had the experts exaggerate their statements for the need of oxygen producing plants—that the city’s oxygen generators could not produce enough oxygen by themselves. The fact was, the plants did help take some of the load off the generators, but they didn't, in reality, help that much, and the park could have been demolished.
In the end Juez with the charts, graphs, calculations, and testimony of the experts, won out, and the city park was left alone.
And it was these types of actions that led Sam to believe that his father might be Rogae X. If he was, he didn’t want to know about it because he didn’t want to have the knowledge that could put his father’s life in jeopardy. When rebels were caught they were all put under a lie detector test in which the question was asked if they knew Rogae X's identity. If there was any indication that they might know, they under went the excruciatingly painful mind-melt, which usually ended in death or some kind of terrible psychosis.
How did Dahms get through the lie detector test? Dahms had indicated, without saying it in so many words, that Rogae X had personally conducted the test.
He had helped her out of a tough spot. He had also arranged for the rebels to break Dahms, Sam, and Gaal out of the run. And now Dahms had gone to him again for help. But that was three days ago. Where the hell is she? He asked himself. She said she would be back in two days.
Visions of seeing her in a small room, with men hanging over her, and a metal cap strapped to her head sucking the life out of her brain, raced through his mind.
He shook his head trying to shake away this ridiculous thought. He walked over to the apartment window, which had been greyed to keep others from looking in, and looked at the street three stories below. What he saw was a small side street with sidewalks on both sides. It was dotted with a few people hurrying along on a morning workday. Everything appeared normal.
Sam turned and looked down at Gaal. "Damn that woman,” he said. “She said she’d be back two days ago. And here we are still waiting. Maybe they caught her."
“Probably not,” said Gaal. He placed the book on the couch next to him—face open and face down so as not to lose his place. "She's too smart for them." He leaned back and crossed his legs while looking up at Sam.
But Sam wasn't convinced. "Not so smart that she didn't get caught once before," he said. "Even with all the precautions—the secrecy, the body guards, and the underground maze of tunnels leading to the small meeting room. The patrollers still stormed through taking out all the resistance and taking Dahms and five other rebels into custody."
"Completely different circumstances," said Gaal. He held up his hand in gesture. "In the first place she's not in a meeting, and secondly there was an inside tip which led the patrollers to the room that night."
Sam was just about to retort when there was a noise at the door. He quickly pulled his phasor from the holster and ran behind the wall, which separated the living room from the kitchen.
Gaal bolted over the couch to hide from anyone who might step through the doorway.
As Sam looked around the corner, the door slid open and a woman with short black hair and ugly protruding teeth, stepped quickly into the living room. She was dressed in a simple, lower class cotton dress.
"Where are you?" she asked quietly. The teeth caused a slight slur in her speech.
Sam stepped into a shooting stance aiming the phasor at her chest. "Who the hell. . . ?" he started to ask, and then he recognized her.
"Dahms?"
She pulled off the wig and spit the buckteeth into her hand. "Is everything alright?" she asked.
"Yeah," said Gaal as he stood up from behind the couch. "How about you?"
"Kind of okay," she answered. She took a couple more steps into the room. There was a large bundle, wrapped in butcher paper with a string tied around it, under her left arm.
"They have posters with our pictures all over town,” she said. “And they're offering a large reward for our capture."
Before she finished her sentence, a man, tall in stature, at least six foot eight, and slender in form, and wearing a colorful, puffy shirt along with a colorful, puffy pants, stepped through the doorway and into the room.
As the door slid shut, Sam noticed the peculiar clothing of the man. Sam had a nagging feeling he had seen him before.
Dahms set the bundle on the couch and then gestured toward the man. "This is Xygliper."
It was then that Sam remembered where he had seen these peculiar looking clothes. He hadn’t seen the man’s face, but he definitely remembered the clothes, and he would never forget where he had seen them. He whirled toward the man and brought his phasor to bear upon the man’s chest, but instead of pulling the trigger knowing that there was a reason this man was here, he said. “I’ve seen this man before.”
Dahms quickly stepped between Sam and the stranger. "Don’t do anything stupid."
"You do realize this is the archer who tried to kill us in the Run."
The man peered over Dahms’ shoulder with a look of indignation. "Sir," he said, "if I had wanted to kill you, then surely you would be dead by now."
Dahms shook a finger at Sam. "He's been working for us the past five years," she said.
Sam lowered his phasor, and looking at the man, he said, "There was always that nagging feeling in the back of my mind the way the archer kept missing us. As if we had been a little luckier than we should have been."
Gaal walked around the couch and stuck out his hand, “So, a double agent, eh? I’m glad you’re on our side.”
The stranger grasped the outstretched hand and shook it. “Name’s Xygliper,” he said.
"The fact is," said Dahms, "he's the only one of Hurd's killers who would join the underground."
Xygliper sat down on a chair and looked up at Sam and Gaal. He said, "When Hurd first contacted me five years ago on my home planet, he made it sound fun and adventuresome. He would pay me large sums of money to participate in a sporting event." He paus
ed and clicked his fingers (later Sam was told that this was a habit Xygliper's race would exhibit when irritated). "When I got here I quickly found out the Run is nothing more than the senseless murder of people."
Dahms stepped a little closer to Sam and said, "Xyg had decided to return home about the same time we contacted him. After he heard of our plight he decided to stay and help us."
"That's right," said Xygliper. "And five days ago was the first chance I've had to help a runner. Even though the left is easier, it's the first time anyone has made it that far down the left path."
"Yeah, it makes sense," said Sam. "At the time I thought you missed because of our quick movements. But later, after I had time to think about it, it seemed a little too lucky. It seems to me a good archer would time his shots with predictable movement." Sam thought a moment, "And I'm sure Hurd buys only the best. . . . I suppose you placed in the Galactic Games?"
“Number eight," said Xygliper.
"Which is why he's here now," said Dahms. "Even as you were wondering if we could be that lucky, we knew it wouldn't take Hurd long to realize Xyg had missed on purpose."
Sam walked over to Xygliper and stuck out his hand. "I'm sorry," he said.
"Okay," said Dahms, "now that the introductions are finished, I have some startling news." She paused to let the word 'startling' sink in.
Sam could only think of the worst. Letting go of Xyg’s hand, he quickly asked, "Is it my sister?"
"It involves your sister."
It didn't make him happy that she didn't come right out with it. The five days of being hidden away in a small apartment was beginning to have an effect. "What has happened to her?" he asked in a raised voice.
"She's in prison."
"In prison?" He was still talking loudly. "In the pits of Ar?"
"Yes, but that isn't the news . . ."
"Well it’s news enough for me. And we've got to get her out. If we don't get her out, she's dead. You know it and I know it. Everybody in here knows it."
Dahms eyes started to glare. "Will you please listen." She waited for him to say, ‘yes,’ but instead he quickly stroked one side of his mustache in an agitated manner.
"We're going to do everything we can to get her out. But let me finish what I have to say."
"Fine," said Sam.
Dahms stepped in closer to the center of the room. A worried look crossed her face. "There has been an attempted usurpation of the Galaefship."
"What?” asked Gaal. “The ruler of the Galactic Empire?"
"That's right. His second in command, Thorne, is attempting to become the new Galaef."
"But that's impossible."
"We all thought so, but Thorne has found something which he believes will allow him to be successful. Since we don't know what that 'thing' is, we can't predict the probability of his success. We only know that we have to do whatever we can to stop him."
Sam sat down and leaned back against the couch. It didn't seem possible that the Galaef could be overthrown, but he decided to reserve judgment until he knew more. He said, "My first question is, who is 'we?' And secondly, how can ‘we’ help?"
Dahms answered quickly as if she had anticipated the questions. She said, "Over these past three days I've been in long discussions with the leader of the underground, Rogae X. It is his contention that this crisis is as important as the underground cause. Since part of the Galaef overthrow has taken place in Newusa, we can address both issues simultaneously."
Took place in Newusa?" Sam was incredulous. "Why would they choose Ar?"
Dahms explained the details as they had been told to her. She ended with, "After Thorne and Hurd captured the Galaef, they put him in the pits."
“Surely this can’t be so,” exclaimed Gaal with a look of consternation.
"They put the Galaef of the Galactic Empire in the pits?" Sam was aghast. "They're going to kill him."
"No. I'm sure he's only doing light labor or no labor at all. If they had wanted to kill him, he would be dead by now. For some reason Thorne needs him alive."
Sam stood up. "If you were in conference with Rogae X for three days, you must have formulated a plan concerning my sister and the Galaef."
Dahms looked distraught. "Actually, only half a plan," she said. "And because the plan is incomplete we cannot predict if it will be successful."
"Three days and only half a plan?" Sam was obviously irritated.
Dahms reached into the bundle on the couch and pulled out a rolled sheet of paper. As she unrolled it, she sat cross-legged on the floor setting the paper in front of her. "This is a layout of the prison and the surrounding area," she said.
The others moved in closer, taking their cue and sitting on the floor next to the plans. Sam sat to her right, Xygliper to her left, and Gaal was on one knee looking over her shoulder.
"This is the landing pad." She pointed to a circular area one mile northeast of the prison. "Thorne has two G15 destroyers, with full phasor capabilities and a sonic bomb arsenal, parked on the southwest corner of the pad. Here and here." She pointed out the location.
"He wants to make sure the Galaef doesn't go anywhere," said Gaal.
"Yes, and if we're going to get the Galaef and Viella out, we have to first take over these destroyers."
"I would say, 'almost impossible.'" There was a disconcerted tone in Sam’s voice.
"Not so impossible," said Dahms. "Rogae X will be sending a message to the lead Commander explaining that four patrollers, sent by the council, will be coming aboard. Our purpose will be to explain to the crews of the G15's the internal workings of the prison."
Gaal looked a little nervous. "Pretty flimsy reason for wanting to come aboard a Federation warship."
And Sam asked, "What makes you think he'll believe it?"
"Well, first, because we have these patroller uniforms." She pulled four uniforms out of the sack. "And secondly, because the message is going out on a top secret frequency."
Sam started to say something, paused, and finally said, "I won't ask."
"Good," replied Dahms. "Tomorrow night Rogae X will have a shuttlecraft hidden in the ravine just outside the East gate. Inside there will be stun bombs and palm stunners. Once we get inside the G15, it shouldn't be too difficult to take control.”
Sam had the feeling that Dahms wasn’t as confident as she appeared to be.
“And probably we'll be able to play the same trick on the second ship." She paused. "So in the morning the day after tomorrow we'll be on our way to the pits. Any questions?"
Sam didn't hesitate. "You said we only have half a plan, but it sounds like the hardest part is already laid out. Once we have the destroyers, if we can pull it off, then we should have no difficulty formulating a plan to take over the prison."
Gaal stood up and stretched his legs as Sam made his observation. Xygliper stood up from the floor, walked over to the couch, and sat down.
"It won't be so easy," said Dahms. She raised her voice so everyone could hear. "First, none of us, and no one else in the underground knows how to operate a destroyer. Secondly, we don't know how many men are in each ship. Thirdly, we could have one of the Galaef's men operate it, but we don't know who is loyal to Thorne and who to the Galaef—I suspect the Commander of each ship will be one of Thorne's, but who else? And finally, there are phasor turrets along the tops of the prison walls."
"That does paint a gloomy picture," said Xygliper, "but as I see it, we have no choice but to try."
"You're right about one thing. No one from Ar knows how to operate a G15." Sam looked at Xygliper. "How about you Xyg, do you know how to fly a destroyer?"
"Nope. Never learned."
"Considering all the possibilities," said Sam, "I don't think the odds are in our favor. But like Xyg says, we have no choice, and even if I have to do it alone, I will do whatever I can to get my sister out of that death pit."
Chapter Fifty-Four