CHAPTER TWELVE
Michael Donaldson was tired. It was too hot for him here on Terramora Prime. He was sweating heavily and he could feel a headache starting. He was now regretting agreeing to come and stay on the planet but he knew the importance of the occasion and the good impression his presence would give. It was so important for everyone to be seen to be moving forwards away from the Transmortal attacks and anything he could do to help was okay. If only it weren’t so damn hot! A hand on his shoulder made him spin around.
“It’s time sir,” an aide whispered into his ear. Thank goodness. Once he got this speech out of the way he could maybe get into somewhere a bit cooler. He nodded to his aide, climbed the steps to the podium and rested his hands on the lectern as he accepted the applause graciously. There were hundreds of people here and he was gratified to see so many came to this ceremony. Trees were thought of almost as deities here and that made this speech important which is why he’d been up till the early hours writing and rehearsing it. Less than ten years ago his life was so different and if anyone told him then that in a few years time he’d be the guest of honour giving such an important speech on Terramora Prime, he’d have told them they were crazy. He was a good man and he knew it and was proud of his morals.
He always knew he wasn’t the type to thrive in the military and he wasn’t built for combat. He never had the personality for it either; he always lacked that edge that those in combat need to survive. He never believed that the whole answer could be found in simply cleaning up situations. He always felt a need to know why things happened and why people did what they did and he always believed that discussion and understanding could build bridges that the military approach couldn’t. As a teenager his buddies called him a pacifist and he was bullied some over it. When he was younger it seemed like the only way to be thought of as a real man was to join the military and go kick some ass. He always secretly thought that idea was a bit like de-evolving but he kept the opinion to himself to avoid more bullying than he was already experiencing.
While his buddies were working out and joining the junior military corps, he was sat in debating class discussing the topical issues of the day with others like himself. He was in his element in those classes and graduated knowing that whatever he did with his life, it must be something that involved encouraging openness and honesty amongst people. He hated secrecy and cliques and all of the underhanded double dealing he knew went on in most organisations and companies. The institutionalised bullying tactics used to keep the workers out of touch and obedient that he came across time after time annoyed and dismayed him beyond belief. As he stood there waiting to deliver his speech, he was proud of having kept to his morals and wished that those bullies from his childhood could be here now.
“Ladies and gentlemen, friends. We are here today to give thanks not only for our own survival, but to give thanks to God for honouring this world with a new forest. As these precious new saplings grow and thrive to once again grace this earth with their beauty and reverence, we are reminded every day that he is with us, that he watches over us, that he smiles upon us and that he loves us. Twenty five years ago those first survivors took their first brave steps towards renewal. As they stooped to gather up those fallen stones and began to rebuild this magnificent world, their vision and hope for the future of all, reached his eyes and he was pleased. Those who have carried on this work throughout all of the intervening years had that same vision and those who still carry on the work today and into the future have that vision. Your vision, your hope, your certainty of renewal has become a living reality in these precious new trees that grow alongside you. Their strength, their determination and their will to survive and regenerate is a consequence of your own belief and a symbol of that vision. As you bury those lost during those tragic days, these living manifestations of God’s love grow ever more beautiful. As you set each new stone in its rightful place, this forest spreads its grace a little further across your world and into your hearts. Friends, please join me in a prayer of thanks.” The crowd bowed their heads as one. “Almighty God, on this new day as we stand here amongst these living symbols of your love we offer our thanks that they have returned to grace our world. We give thanks for the life giving air that is their gift to us as we strive to rebuild this world to be a place of friendship and welcome to all your children, wherever they may be from and however they choose to know and honour you in their turn. We stand in awe at the strength and courage displayed here every day since those terrible days so long ago. Almighty Father, as we stand here today, we humbly beg forgiveness on those who once walked on this world with darkness in their hearts and separated us from those we love. As these new trees grow, we ask that their grace find its way into the hearts of those dark souls who need it most, so that they find the courage to reach out their hands and find you. Amen.” As Donaldson looked up he saw many heads nodding in agreement, a few eyes being dabbed and one or two openly sobbing and being comforted by those around them. He’d done a good job and he was glad he spent so much time working on the speech last night; he wanted to make a lasting impression that would help to spur things along as the rebuilding continued. It was time for summing up and a gracious goodbye. He looked back down at his notes.
He just had time to register the fact that someone was leaping over the rope barrier that kept the crowd at a respectful distance from the podium, before he felt a body crash into him and send them both sprawling down the back of the podium to the ground below. He heard shots ringing out over his head as they flew through the air and shouts and panic from all around as he lay on the ground with the body on top of him. He was winded and clutched at his chest as he struggled for air. The body on top of him moved and allowed him to sit up and he looked at it. Whoever it was had covered their head with a hooded shirt; one of those new fashion ones designed to keep the sun from the face and although he was unable to see the face he was aware of a pair of startlingly green eyes looking at him from under the hood. It was a woman, of that he was in no doubt. Only women wore these new over shirts and those eyes were feminine, soft and he just knew they meant him no harm. She reached inside the shirt and for a moment he wondered if he’d got it wrong and she was about to shoot him. She brought out a small package just a little bigger than a pack of cigarettes and held it out to him.
“Who are you? What do you want from me? he asked her. Then, as if to confirm his intuitive feeling that she meant no harm, she spoke.
“Never mind. Take this package please. Remember Moxal 3?” Moxal 3? Why the hell would she be mentioning that place? He nodded and she continued. “This package contains Vincent’s book and data cube, the one he tried to give you years ago. He is innocent of the crimes he was convicted of and the data that this package contains proves it. It will also help you deal with the Moxal Revolutionaries once and for all. Vincent is innocent. You must clear his name for at this very moment he is bringing to an end the evil that once walked here on this very spot. He has suffered so much for crimes he didn’t commit, use this and clear him. Please.” She leapt up from him and ran off but as she turned to run away, he noticed her shirt had a small tear at the back and through it he could see a beautiful dragon. She disappeared into the crowd within seconds and as Donaldson looked about him at the chaotic scene, he wondered how Moxal 3 could be connected with the shooting here today, or if it even was connected, or why.
“Sir, Sir are you hurt?” a voice shouted at him from his left. He turned to look and found one of his aides lying on the ground with his leg all bloody.
“No I’m okay, what the hell is going on here?” he asked before realising the absurdity of the question.
“Don’t know Sir. Shots came from somewhere back in the far tree line. The security forces are tracking its source.” The man lying down cried out in agony as he clutched at his leg.
Donaldson shouted for his aides. “Morley, Johnson, get over here and help Wickley, he’s bee
n shot.” A man ran over to them and crouched by Donaldson. It was Morley.
“Johnson is dead Sir, as is Norman, are you hurt?”
Donaldson shook his head. “No I’m okay. Help Wickley please; his leg is shot to pieces.”
Morley leapt up and ran over to Wickley who lay there moaning in pain. “It’s okay buddy, try to relax. Help is on the way.”
The next two hours passed in a chaotic rush. The crowd rushed away in all directions, screaming as they ran to find cover as the security forces rushed towards the far tree line in search of the gunman. Medical aid rushed to the scene and the two dead aides were taken away by the ANA. Wickley was treated at the scene before being returned to the ANA liner for treatment in its on board medical centre. Donaldson was fussed over by Morley who urged him to return to the liner himself for safety.
“Please Sir, your safety is paramount. I must urge you to return to the liner immediately. If you get killed here the ANA and all it stands for will be in jeopardy.”
Donaldson listened politely but his mind was made up. He was staying. “If I run away at the first sign of trouble, what impression does that give people of what the ANA stands for? I’m staying here and that’s final. Thank you for your concern Morley. You do your job well and I appreciate your candour but I’m staying.”
“Yes Sir,” Morley replied obediently. Donaldson knew that he was probably cursing him under his breath and he understood why.
“Let’s get back to the hotel now eh?” Donaldson clapped Morley on the back and smiled as he gently patted the package hidden beneath his shirt.
Back at the hotel, he retrieved the package the woman gave him and examined it more closely. It was wrapped in soft leather and contained an old style data cube and a little notebook.
“My god, it is the same one,” he exclaimed as he handled the book and let his thoughts drift back to that day on Moxal 3 when the big Lilean met him in the tunnel and tried to get him to listen. The guy was aware that something wasn’t right with the Moxal 3 Mining Corporation and came to him with evidence he took the trouble to gather secretly. Donaldson joined the fledgling ANA because its aims and objectives matched everything he wanted his life to stand for. Back in those days he was just a new recruit; he had no real authority of his own to wield when faced with corruption and double dealing within companies and organisations. He was sent on his first position in the field and ended up at the Moxal 3 Mining Corporation as a representative of the ANA. Officially he was supposed to ensure that the company practised their business in a legal and safe manner by observing the day to day running of the place and by being a listening ear for the employees who may want to discuss the way the company operated and treated them to someone outside of the company who was neutral and objective. He tried to do exactly that but McGreedle had no intention of opening up to him. He guessed straight away that there was something wrong and he didn’t trust the Facility Warden one little bit.
When the big Lilean guy gave him the book and data cube he thought all his luck was in and in his innocence, told McGreedle that he was going to get the authorities onto him, that he now possessed evidence of everything that had been going on. All that brought him was the pleasure of being beaten black and blue and having his quarters ransacked by McGreedle’s lackeys. They found the evidence and took it, leaving Donaldson with nothing with which to back up any claims he might make against the company. He was hog tied by his own stupidity and Vincent suffered as a result. After the guy was arrested and sent to Cryo Stasis for his trouble, Donaldson almost gave up the ANA in disgust. He took a leave of absence and talked the whole thing over with his supervising officer and after being given a thorough telling off for being so stupid, was given a transfer away from Moxal 3. Now here he was all these years later and head of the ANA with all the clout he could ever want. How often he wished to be able to fix the Moxal 3 situation and make it up to the big Lilean guy who showed trust in him, but without the evidence he could do nothing. Now Vincent was back and giving him another chance to listen and help and do the right thing and he decided that he’d not rest until he’d made sure it was fixed right this time.
“I am so sorry Vincent, for everything. I give you my word here and now that I won’t let you down again,” Donaldson vowed as he opened Vincent’s book and began to read. As he leafed through the pages it all came flooding back to him. The secret meetings, the suspicious looking weapons company man who scared the shit out of him just by looking at him a certain way, the dwindling money and the murders. One of the victims was a woman who always made an effort to smile and say hello to him and he even wondered if he should ask her out but never had the nerve. All of these memories and many more came back to him as he sat in his hotel room in just his underwear because it was too hot for him on Terramora Prime. He punched his cell phone and waited for Morley to answer.
“Morley, I need a digital streamer as soon as you can. Oh, and make sure it’s capable of reading a series Seven Oxicon cube will ya? Quick as you can buddy.” He got dressed in the lightest and coolest clothes he possessed and poured himself yet another glass of water. When Morley finally turned up with a streamer capable of reading the Oxicon cube, Donaldson was pacing the room.
“Sorry it took so long Sir, those cubes are way out of date now. What the heck do you want one of those for?” Morley asked. Donaldson took a moment to think about his closest aide. Morley was one of those men who had a devotion to duty that was so strong it bordered on obsession. Sometimes it blinkered him, hampered his ability to be flexible. He always did his job properly and Donaldson never had cause to doubt his loyalty either to himself or the ANA aims and objectives.
“Morley, you have always been my most trusted aide, no, my friend. I have never doubted your loyalty to the ANA cause or myself and I trust that you hold openness, truth and right as the greatest priority. I need to trust you now more than ever before with something so important, both to me personally and to the very future of many other worlds in the galaxy. I need to know I have your unflinching loyalty and total confidence for what needs to happen in the immediate future. Please tell me that my affection for you as my friend has not clouded my judgement of you.”
Donaldson looked Morley right in the eyes and for a moment they stared at each other. The slightly overweight but still fit and handsome black man looked back at Donaldson for no more than a moment before replying. “You have my word, my loyalty and if necessary, my life Sir.” Donaldson smiled, relieved that he was still a good judge of character.
“Okay, shut and lock the door and help me upload this cube.” For long hours into the night Donaldson and Morley studied the contents of the data cube and notebook. They both felt confident that not only would Vincent easily get his freedom, but also that they could finally deal with the Moxal 3 revolutionaries. As dawn broke over Terramora Prime, they had the skeleton of a plan.
“We both know that in order for Vincent to get his freedom, he must attend the hearing in person right?” Morley said and Donaldson nodded in agreement, it was standard ANA procedure. “We also know that he escaped from Cryo Stasis and could by now be hell knows where. How in gods name do we find him and get him here?”
“Look,” said Donaldson suddenly. “This page here, it says he escaped in the one remaining Cryo Stasis ship.” Morley nodded as he re read the document. “Well the first thing we do is to work out how far that ship could travel fully fuelled, and all habitable planets in that area can then be searched.”
“But that could be hundreds Sir, it could take years to find him,” Morley replied.
“Well it’s better than just sticking a pin in a map or doing it alphabetically ain’t it?” Donaldson argued. “What other way is there? We have to start somewhere.”
“Yeah I guess you’re right Sir. I’ll do the math and work out how much ground we have to cover and pray there aren’t too many planets in that area?”
“Great, a
nd meanwhile I want all resources put onto the Moxal 3 Mining Corporation right away. I want the full force of the ANA to go in unannounced and sweep the place clean. I want every piece of paper, data chip, journal, log books, hell I even want what’s been scratched onto the toilet walls, everything.”
“Yes Sir, I’ll get that underway now.” Morley dialled the secure line on his cell phone and called for an emergency meeting in four hours. By the time the men got a couple of hours sleep, showered, dressed and sat down for lunch, the full weight of the ANA was speeding its way into a lockdown for the Moxal 3 Mining Corporation.
Back on board the ANA liner Donaldson took another look at the data cube. There were a few documents added at the end of the data stream that seemed different to him, but he wasn’t a real techie and didn’t know why. He called Morley who came over and took a look. Donaldson pointed out what he was looking at. “Look, here at the start of this bit of the data stream. It’s different from the rest but I’m not technologically minded. I’m a paper pusher. You know more about this than me, tell me what this is and what it means.”
Morley took a close look and looked thoughtful for a few moments. “I see what you mean Sir. That part of the code tells us when this document was added to the stream. Look, if you look back at these earlier documents you can see those same areas of code right?” Donaldson looked and nodded. Morley continued, trying to keep it simple. “Notice how the numbers are going in chronological order?” Donaldson nodded again. “That shows us that the documents were added a few days apart, a week or so with some of them, but most are no more than a day apart, some just a few hours. Then we come to these last few, and the numbers suddenly jump way up.” He looked up at Donaldson.
“Which tells us what?” Donaldson asked, hoping Morley knew the answer.
“It means that these documents were added years after the first ones, very recently in fact. Hang on a minute, let me convert this code and I’ll get an exact time frame.” He tapped a few buttons and then looked back at Donaldson. “My god,” he said in shock.
“What? What is it?” Donaldson demanded.
“Sir, these last few documents were added just days ago, a couple of weeks.” Both men stared at each other, then at the screen and then back at each other.
Donaldson broke the shocked silence first. “So, what does this mean? Who added them?”
“This other bit of code here will tell us that Sir, give me a minute.” Morley tapped again and Donaldson waited as patiently as he could. “What the hell? But that can’t be, it’s just impossible.” Morley clapped a hand over his head and just stared at the screen, unable to articulate what he was seeing.
Donaldson erupted. “Well?”
“Sorry Sir, it’s just a shock. You’ll never guess who put these documents on the stream.”
“No I won't. Why don't you just tell me.” Donaldson was trying not to shout, he was really trying.
Morley apologised again. “Sorry Sir, it’s the Drycenian Nation. They put these last few documents into the stream for us to find.”
Donaldson’s jaw dropped in complete shock. “Are you sure?”
“Yes Sir, no question. I checked twice. The Drycenian Nation is responsible for these added documents.”
“My god, how are they involved in this, and why?” Donaldson asked aloud, knowing Morley wouldn’t know the answer.
Suddenly Morley had an epiphany. “Sir, we all know the Drycenian Nation has technology the rest of us can’t even dream about. The fact that they added these documents, all pertaining to Vincent I hasten to add, shows that they are at least a little concerned that the truth comes out and he gets his freedom. They must also have had some input into getting this evidence to you, via the mysterious woman.” Donaldson was nodding at regular intervals. “So, they have enough intelligence to work out that no one knows where Vincent is. They also must know that he needs to be here in person to be able to be granted his freedom.” Donaldson listened intently and now the penny was beginning to drop. “It would then be fair to assume that they are also taking pains to try to discover his whereabouts, right?” He looked at Donaldson who agreed.
“Yes it would. They aren’t going to give us all of this and help us so much, only to then leave us to do the hard part ourselves, knowing we’ve a nearly impossible chance of finding him. Are they?” Morley didn’t think so. Donaldson made a decision. “Okay this is what we’ll do next. I want McGreedle, Ranger Thomas Dolton and the SB Weapons Rep guy arrested. I also want anyone else found to be involved in the revolutionary plot arrested. Bring them all here under the highest level restraint for crimes relating to fraud, embezzlement, flouting health and safety legislation and multiple murder. Once we have them secured, we will announce publicly that we have them for crimes relating to a political plot aimed at gaining control of a large sector of the galaxy. We don’t at any time mention Vincent. We must also let it be known that they are accused of multiple murders on Moxal 3 several years ago. Once that goes out across the airwaves, the Drycenians will pick it up and know we are onto things. That might encourage them to come forward and announce their involvement to us.”
Morley got up and headed for the door. “I’ll put it into action right away Sir,” he said as he left the room.
Donaldson banged the gavel on the table and called the meeting to order.
“Okay people what do we have?”
“Sir, it seems that Moxal 3 suffered something of a meltdown a couple of weeks ago.”
“What kind of meltdown?” Donaldson asked.
“Well, a few of the survivors have told us that on the night it happened the emergency shut down procedure was put into action. There was panic everywhere but nobody knew what had gone wrong or what had caused the emergency. Several surviving employees told us that it had something to do with what they termed The Animal,” he said as he looked at Donaldson.
“The Animal? What animal?”
“Well Sir, it would seem that the Moxal Mining Corporation Rangers had somehow got hold of a prisoner whom they kept down in the deeper layers of the tunnel complex. Employees who wanted to see this prisoner were charged five packs of cigarettes each.”
Donaldson was confused at this. “What? What prisoner? And why hold anyone down there? What had he done? And why would people want to pay in cigarettes to see him?”
“Well, it seems that none of the employees had ever seen one before, they all willingly paid up to get their first look.”
“Their first look at what? What hadn’t they seen before? Come on man educate me for pity’s sake before I have a heart attack here.” Donaldson was trying and failing to remain patient and calm.
“A Drycenian Sir. They had captured a Drycenian and were holding him there in the tunnels. One can only assume it was some kind of blackmail kidnapping.” Murmurs went around the room at the mention of the Drycenians and Donaldson and Morley looked at each other knowingly. They both now knew why the Drycenians got themselves involved in this.
“Oh shit,” Donaldson said out loud as he put his head into his hands and sighed. He looked up and continued. “Okay what else do we know? Anyone?”
“Yes Sir, after the emergency services from Moxal 3’s Tactical Combat Centre on its moon were deployed, they found the Facility Warden Mr McGreedle’s body in the aircraft hangar. It was evident from the body that he’d been killed with a Hellfire Pulse Laser Canon. A Transmortal weapon Sir.” More murmurs of shock went around the room and this time Donaldson and Morley were among them.
“The Transmortals are involved in this? Jeez whatever next?” Donaldson didn’t know what to think. “Anything else? What about the SB Weapons guy, do we have him? And the Ranger, what’s his name?”
“Excuse me Sir, no we don’t have the SB Weapons man, he is called umm, let me just check, oh yes here it is, he is a Mr Andrew Midship, commonly known as bullet, but we do have the Ranger, err a Mr Dolton hi
s name is. We also have five witnesses willing to appear to testify that they personally saw the Drycenian prisoner and two who are willing to testify that they saw large sums of cash being handed over to Mr Midship on more than one occasion. They will be here within a week or so.”
“Okay I want it put out that Mr Andrew Midship is wanted for arrest but I want it for official ears only. I don’t want every merc and bounty hunter in the galaxy getting in the way and getting themselves killed. Where is Midship from?”
The delegate checked his report. “Err one moment, let me check. Oh yes, he’s Lilean.” Donaldson and Morley looked at each other again, what the heck was going one here?
“Okay covertly check the comings and goings from Lilea over the past six months and see if Mr Midship has been around.”
“It’s been done Sir; he left Lilea seven years ago and hasn’t returned. We are keeping a covert check on things in case he surfaces there, but we’re not hopeful.” Donaldson had to agree it was a little unlikely that the guy would just turn up at home as if nothing had happened after the meltdown at the mine. He began to doubt he’d ever be seeing Mr Midship and that irked him no end.
“Do we yet know who committed those murders on Moxal 3?” He looked around the room expectantly. “Anyone?”
“Sir, I thought they’d been solved years ago. Didn’t someone get convicted of those murders?” A few of the delegates were nodding in agreement. This was a tense moment and Donaldson had to make a quick decision. He took a deep breath before speaking.
“It has come to my attention that the person convicted of those crimes is almost certainly innocent and that the real killer is, and has always been, still at large. If we can right that miscarriage of justice along with dealing with this irksome revolutionary thing, we can all sleep a little more soundly in our beds. Now, when the witnesses are questioned, I want those murders solved. Am I making myself clear?”
“Yes Sir,” all the delegates replied as one.
The meeting dragged on and on. Plans were made, decisions taken, tasks were delegated and Donaldson began to feel as if there was a real chance of righting his biggest mistake. He carried the shame since the day it happened and if he could look Vincent in the eyes and shake his hand and ask for his forgiveness, he could look at his reflection in the mirror with a little less shame as he shaved his face every morning.
“Has there been any luck in tracing the woman who saved me from getting killed?” he asked. All the delegates shook their heads. It was a young delegate who spoke.
“No Sir, we have put out an arrest warrant for her but without a description there isn’t much hope unless someone inside the assassination plot comes forward.”
Donaldson hadn’t mentioned about the dragon tattoo he saw on the woman’s back through her torn shirt. He didn’t want her killed as a suspect for he firmly believed she was innocent of any involvement. He did want to meet her though to thank her for saving his life and giving him the opportunity to secure Vincent’s freedom. “Okay, keep looking and making enquiries but I want everyone to be sure, she is to be treated well if she is found. I don’t believe for a minute that she was involved in the plot to kill me. I believe she wanted only to save my life and I wish to give her the thanks she deserves for such a selfless act. Under no circumstances must a contract for her capture be put out to the general public. If I find out that someone has leaked this and some merc gets hold of her and kills her for a payday, heads will roll. Do you all understand me?” Everyone nodded and Donaldson hoped they’d got the point.
*****