Chapter 33 - Confounding the Enemy
Jordan did not have to speak to know that Vila shared his dread of returning to the Royal Estate. Common sense told him that security would have been multiplied there now, and the transmission tunnels blocked or watched.
They were in the beam-in chamber in Amik. A metal plate now blocked each of the three tunnels, and all access to the room was securely sealed. However, they knew what the room had looked like and had a picture to transmit to. No one had sensed their presence when they had transmitted back into the city.
In the short time they took to get from the outer edge of the city to the council building, they had decided trying to locate Pyr was going to take too long.
“We have replacement stealth suits,” Vila said, finding something positive. She couldn’t help feeling that something could see them.
“But they had a way to make us visible up in the palace. They will have put the same thing in that chamber now, for sure.”
“We have concussion grenades and the green force generator,” Vila tried, but she already knew the Tymoreans now had personal force screens that negated both. She abhorred the thought of using the concussion grenades again.
Jordan knew his sister was trying to be encouraging.
“Villeni told me that we have ships attacking the Estate. The Tymorean attention will be on that.”
“Is that our guardian’s doing?” Vila asked, surprised.
“Villeni didn’t know which Warlord organised it – he just decided it would be a useful diversion. As for the rest, they surely won’t expect us back so soon.”
“We will have to be careful, that’s all,” Jordan told her. “Let’s get going.”
After half an hour of silence, Vila spoke again. “All these transmissions are tiring, and we are not even half way there yet. I feel like we have been forced through a dozen walls.”
Jordan had to agree. “Logically, that is if I were in charge of security, I would have ways to block these tunnels, so any one trying to bring an army through would be slowed or stopped. Since only the Royals have transmitters like these, they wouldn’t necessarily worry about an enemy transmitting. We know we can transmit through walls, I don’t think the blockages are more than a solid wall. Do you want to walk for a bit? It seems to help us get some energy back.”
“Please,” Vila agreed. “I know our guardian is impatient and not particularly pleased with us right now, but he has no idea that these transmitters use our personal energy.”
Vila fell silent, reminded of her revulsion in having to fight the Tymoreans. She resented that Kellex had stolen them from their rightful place and made them enemies of their true kin. The Tymoreans would never forgive them for what they had done.
“Do you think…that the king…our father…is still alive?”
“I don’t know,” Jordan shrugged. His gesture hardly noticeable in the dim glow of his hand held light. He did not want to think of the man he’d met briefly, who had been willing to forgive them, and whom they had betrayed.
They finally reached the farmlands, having remained undetected by the guards in each intermediate beam-in chamber. The slight noises they made sometimes caused the guards to spin around with weapons ready. Seeing nothing, they went to each tunnel in turn and listened intently for a time. Avoiding them was easy.
After they were in the final tunnel, leading to the Royal Estate, they sat and rested. They used it as an opportunity to eat several ration bars to give them energy they expected to need to fight. As the neared the palace end of the tunnel, they doused their light and instinctively went into full stealth mode, using every bit of the skill trained into Kellex’s chosen elite. They crept closer, silently, stopping and listening when the far opening was two hundred yards away.
Neither had their armour sealed during the tunnel transit.
“I can’t hear anything,” Vila thought at her brother.
“Nor I, and I can’t feel any faint breezes to indicate movement from ahead,” Jordan confirmed. “Obviously they have finished evacuating the non-combatants, but surely they still have a guard there.”
Jordan flicked his headpiece shut, activated the armour’s scanners and studied what he could see of the room ahead. “Still nothing,” he thought at Vila. “Though if I were the guards, I would be listening for noises and positioned to be out of sight of the tunnels and able to aim at the openings.”
Vila sealed her own armour as Jordan suggested, “We will go closer, watch out for sensors.”
“They might already know someone is coming,” Vila thought, catching her brother’s paranoia.
“We’ll commando crawl out of the tunnel,” Jordan suggested mentally. “They won’t expect anyone to do that.”
For a good reason, Vila decided. Getting up in the armour was awkward.
When they emerged from the tunnel and looked around, they saw no indication of guards, visible or shielded. Although feeling foolish, Jordan stood up and carefully scanned the room. Something was not right about the situation.
“Do you recall how that girl knew of the Ciriot because they leave trails visible in UV light,” Jordan thought slowly. “Well, I can see trails …the Ciriot have been here.”
Just on chance, Jordan sent a thought at Pyr.
Vila’s hopes rose and fell. They had tried to reach him when they were back in Amik. She had to believe he was dead. She couldn’t bear to think that he was a prisoner of the Ciriot.
“I don’t like this,” Jordan spoke softy. “It feels like the whole place is deserted.”
Vila shivered. “Let’s get going. Do you think they would have left this beam machine set to Dira?”
“I would have,” Jordan decided. “For a quick exit, and if everyone is gone, no one would change it. Shall we try?”
Vila nodded and watched Jordan fiddle with the controls. A glowing purple beam appeared, directed along one of the tunnels.
“Looks right,” she said. At least it wasn’t pointing towards the farmlands. “Let’s go…”
“Put your head piece down. If we meet anyone, they might mistake us for the prince and princess again. I’ll demand a report if the guards query us.”
With a faint laugh, Vila followed the suggestion and made sure her red hair was visible. It had worked in Amik, where the Tymoreans had retaken the city. The city guards had assured them that all the Aeronite infiltrators and Ciriot either were dead or had fled.
“All the Royals have gone on to the Temple,” the guard reported. “I am surprised that you are here, your Highness.”
“We have duties that we have just completed. Now, will you tell us if it is safe to go there now?”
Jordan imitated his guardian when he was in foul mood.
“Soon after everyone else left here, the planes began bombarding the Temple shields again. It isn’t safe for you to walk up there now,” the guard insisted, unconsciously wringing his hands.
He looked like he wanted to drag them away to somewhere safe, so Jordan said, “We can transmit ourselves there. That isn’t an issue. I need to see what is happening so I can make a proper report for the President.”
The guard breathed out and relaxed. He took them to the edge of the city. Jordan studied the situation. The Temple sat on a hill, not far from the edge of the city. Close enough that the watchers felt the ground shake as bombs landed. Jordan used his suit sensors to watch the energy emissions, and could see the shields were glowing and periodically flaring.
“Thank you,” Jordan told his escort, as he took Vila’s arm and transmitted from the man’s sight. He didn’t go to the Temple as he had implied, but to a sheltered corner out of the guard’s sight.
“I don’t recognise those fighter ships,” Jordan said when they were alone. “Or those greenish energy blasts.”
“Ciriot?” Vila suggested. “The Tymoreans wouldn’t be bombing their own sacred Temple. And we can’t transmit that far, and if the Royals walked there, it must mean they can’t transmit there.”
Jordan didn’t answer right away. He was thinking and finally said, “I had better report to Kellex. He isn’t going to like it, but what else can we do?”
He had to boost the signal power to maximum to reach Kellex’s ship, and had to wait until Kellex came to the comm room.
Vila heard his response when Jordan had to take the earpiece away from his ear. Kellex was jubilant when he heard that the Estate was deserted. He ordered Jordan back to make sure. He ordered Vila to get into the Temple and report from there.
Kellex blithely assured them that the odd weapons must be new ones conceived by Warlord Wazim, and likely it was Voltec testing them.
Jordan’s expression was full of concern when Kellex cut the signal.
“I never thought I was a coward,” Vila said, her voice unsteady, “But I do not want to go out there.”
“He wants a report,” Jordan stressed.
“I know that, but he refuses to believe that the Ciriot are here and trying to beat us to some prize. But even so, I can be killed as easily by Aeronite fire as Ciriot,” Vila said.
Without admitting that he agreed with her assessment, Jordan suggested, “If you get in, surrender to the Governors. Ask them straight out for help for Aerdna.”
“If they knew what we did…we don’t even know if the king is alive…they’d kill me.”
“If the king is dead, they won’t know and if he is not, he said he’d speak for us,” Jordan told her.
“I wouldn’t like to bet on that,” Vila objected. “But what if I can’t get in? They might have a barrier to stop people transmitting there. Then I will be outside in that bombardment.”
“It might be a religious thing, having to walk in,” Jordan said. Then he added, “But when you materialise, transmit again right away and when you get next to the shield, do a short flit inwards.”
“I will likely arrive in the middle of a crowd. All the Royals are meant to be there – the area isn’t very large. The place must be crowded.”
“Like I said, surrender,” Jordan said.
“Kellex will kill you, if I do,” Vila told him.
“How will he know?” Jordan countered. “He might simply tell me that females should never presume to be commanders. Go.”
Vila took a deep breath, gathered her courage, and studied the scene towards the Temple and transmitted.
When she materialised, she nearly fell over as the ground trembled. She mentally prayed for protection and quickly transmitted again. The next time, the pressure wave of an explosion blew her off her feet. It galvanised her to transmit again. The next emergence, she was next to the glowing shield and she heard the scream of an approaching missile. She transmitted again.
The shield a few yards away took the force of the explosion and emitted a blinding glare.
When she could see again, Vila realised she was within the Temple grounds and the peaceful scene seemed out of place with the sound of bombs.
“Jordan?” she used telepathy aimed at her brother. She didn’t want this conversation broadcast on a comm. frequency. “I am inside the shield; I can see the Temple and all the grounds are deserted. The Royals can’t all be within the Temple – it just isn’t big enough.”
“Check it anyway – someone has to be there,” Jordan insisted. “Everything Kellex found out says that is where they went.” He sensed that Vila was as confused as he was.
Vila couldn’t shake the feeling that someone was watching her as she scouted the gardens. The beauty and intricate design of the beds made no impression on her. She considered it wasted space – since she only knew spaceships and crowded cities.
On the threshold of the Temple itself, she literally could not force herself to go in. She could go so far, and no further. She tried to transmit in, but nothing happened. She stepped back, and backed away from the Temple.
“Jordan…no one is around…but I can’t get into the Temple…I simply can’t go in. I’m coming back…”
“Wait a moment. I will see what Kellex says,” Jordan said.
Vila didn’t stay near the Temple – it was freaking her. In addition, she still had the sense of being watched.
When she finally heard Jordan’s reply, it made her no happier.
“I told Kellex that your suit comm. couldn’t get through the interference. He is sending one of the squadrons to reinforce the one that is here…”
“These are ours?” Vila asked in disbelief.
“He says they are,” Jordan told her. “He will have your flight second bring your ship there. He wants you in command, trying to break the defences. I have to go back to the Estate, find the shield controls and bring them down. Kellex sounds so arrogantly smug. It is as if he thinks he has not only outsmarted the Tymoreans, but the other Warlords as well. I wouldn’t gloat until I knew where all the Royals actually are. Anyway, when your ship gets here, they will send a signal and you can transmit to it.”
After a moment’s silence, Jordan thought at his sister again. “Vila? Are you okay?”
“Yes. I might as well be a good little Commander, mightn’t I? The Tymoreans might as well have left the planet. Kellex is the only protection we have; especially now the Ciriot are here.”
Xan slipped back into the Temple and found Tymos, who looked to be meditating in the Altar Room. He waited a short while until Tymos decided to notice him.
“It was Vila,” Xan told Tymos, once the Prince looked his way. “Looking as efficient as ever…until she couldn’t get in here.”
“She’s wavering,” Tymos told him. “She’s questioning Kellex’s indoctrination, but can’t quite make the break.”
“You could have brought her in, like you do when I need to go in and out,” Xan suggested.
“Not yet – not until she has decided which side to fight for. Not until she has proved herself,” Tymos said quietly. “And she and Jordan have to get the Warlords to come here.”
Xan sighed and decided he would never understand Prince Tymos’s mind.
“Kellex knows the Estate is deserted. I have no doubt he is on his way there right now. He wants Jordan bring the shields down so that he can fly in. The instant he learns of that message, he will come directly here with the other Warlords on his ship’s afterburner.”
“He will think ill of Vila, if he succeeds when she failed,” Xan predicted.
“He thinks she is useless anyway,” Tymos told the young alien. “He won’t be expecting a trap, and there are no controls here for the shields.”
“Whatever,” Xan muttered, to finish that conversation. “You’ll be gone as soon as Jordan finds that message then?”
“Yes, I have a lot to do,” Tymos agreed.
Jordan waited until Vila confirmed she was safe in her ship and lifted off, before sealing his armour, activating stealth mode and retracing his way to the beam-in room in the city of Dira. He walked quickly, fluidly avoiding the crowds of people on the streets who were busily buying food supplies.
He felt at that moment as if he had as little chance as Vila of breaking free of Kellex. It was like his mind and body had been conditioned to obedience. Maybe, Kellex would forget his earlier displeasure with his wards, if he could claim to control the Royal Estate.
Jordan maintained caution as he transmitted back to the Royal Estate. He was ready to fight, but there were no signs of people or of energy signals suggesting cloaked guards. It did not feel right…to be able to walk in, walk around…and remain unchallenged. He used his suit sensors to check thoroughly before going over to the maintenance shaft he had used before. That was not locked, or protected in any way. He opened the door and checked the tunnel going up – nothing.
Now he had a chance to look around and he saw two more tunnels he had overlooked on his last two visits. The one that led to the air-conditioning and water circulating areas went ahead; the others went off to either side.
So much had happened since he had come to try to take the young Prince. He suddenly felt he knew the answer to why the estate felt dead. The poison the warriors had put into the air and water, must have killed everyone. That thought did not make him feel any better. It was another great crime the Tymoreans would not forgive him for. Maybe that was why Vila had not seen many people at the Temple. The lucky ones had left before the air and water had turned foul, and the rest were lying dead on the upper levels.
At the time of that attack, he hadn’t cared if the Tymoreans died. Now that he knew his beliefs had been wrong, the idea made him ill. Suddenly, he wanted to see if his vision was correct. Maybe they had realised the problem in time, and had a way to protect people.
Keeping in mind his current orders, Jordan decided to see where these other passages went. Both stayed on the same level, so he chose to go left. He stayed in stealth mode, but saw no guards, no bodies, or intruder sensors. He emerged into a large cavern filled with enormous computers. The area was dimly lit, with only security lighting. Jordan found the access pad, and his fingers itched to try accessing this treasure of electronic information. Kellex would give him a medal if he succeeded.
After a fruitless hour, of unsuccessful access attempts, his message relay beeped.
“Report!” was the terse message from Kellex.
Jordan returned his mind to business. “Sir, I have seen no one here. I am currently in their computer archive, and I am about to check a third area of the basement level, and then go looking for their security control room.”
As he’d hoped, Kellex was excited by the computer archive, and having all the secrets of the damned Tymoreans readily available. Despite that, he snapped for Jordan to bring the shields down so he could land on the Estate. That was the first priority.”
With a sigh, Jordan left the tempting computers and continued to scout this lower level, ignoring the doors leading to stairs going upward.
All the while, somewhere in the back of his mind was the nagging feeling that this was all too easy. Another buried part of his mind was the guilty feeling that he was again betraying his own kin. He squashed that thought. With no Tymoreans here, he couldn’t surrender to them, and that idea seemed to make less and less sense. Disobeying Kellex again, would be a death sentence.
“Blessed Jyx,” Jordan exclaimed when he walked into the wide open, unprotected and still operational secondary monitoring room.
He stared as he tried to make sense of what each of the small screens was showing. They were flicking and changing scenes every half a minute. Rows of tiny lights all glowed green. Jordan went to each of the control boards, set in front of the five empty chairs, and set to deciphering the Tymorean script. He kept glancing guiltily at the screens, but every scene was devoid of people. Somehow, the absence of people made the hair on his neck try to rise. His relief at seeing no signs of death everywhere was tempered by the irrational feeling that he was being watched. When noise, like static, came over one of the open comm. frequencies, he spun the chair around as he reached for his disruptor weapon.
Seeing no one, he rose and walked around, checking all corners. When he turned his attention back to the wall of screens, he saw one had blanked out and now had a symbol on it and a flashing series of glyphs. He translated them as, “Incoming Message.” Only then did he realise the symbol was the official symbol of the Tymorean Governors.
Jordan went to the control panel nearest that screen and studied the symbols there. He forgot the message when he decrypted the glyph for ‘shield’ under half a dozen press switches.
He pressed each of them in turn, starting from the left, and the green lights flicked to orange and then red. He looked around for a way to determine which shields he had taken down, and then mentally kicked himself. He was used to thinking Tymoreans used only basic technology and what he was staring at proved that belief to be a myth.
“Shield status – report,” he stated in careful Tymorean.
A mechanically generated voice answered him. “Altitude shields at ninety percent power, fluctuating between seventy and ninety-five percent.”
Jordan caught a flash for one of the monitors, and realised someone was attacking the Estate. He wondered if Kellex knew.
“Perimeter shield inoperative from …” the height details meant nothing to him.
Another flash caught his eye, and this time he saw on one of the monitors, some kind of storage shed burning fiercely. He wasted no more time before reporting to Kellex.
Jordan waited on the paved terrace outside the palaces as Kellex’s ship landed. When his guardian had approached, the ships trying to overload the shields had flown off. Those attackers had still managed to inflict damage, as some of them had fired lucky shots under the remaining shields. Half a dozen buildings had been hit and were burning.
His superior, wasted no time emerging and striding arrogantly to his ward.
“I claim this Estate,” Kellex announced loudly. “You are my witness. Now take me to the control room. I will state my claim and those renegades sent by one of my peers to attack this place will report too late. I, Kellex, broke the defences here. Me!”
Jordan didn’t dare refute the claim. Kellex wasn’t quite rubbing his hands with glee, but he was making sounds like someone savouring a favourite food or drink.
Down in the control room, having allowed Jordan to transmit him down to the lowest level, Kellex stared at everything in turn until his eye caught the flashing message symbol.
Even before his hands touched any press switches, the message began to play. Kellex hissed when he saw the faces of the three Governors appear on the screen. His whole body went rigid as he listened to the message.
“Play again,” he demanded in Tymorean, and as the message was repeated, he recorded it to send to the other Warlords.
“The weakling Governors want to talk, do they?” Kellex snarled aloud, forgetting he wasn’t alone. “There is nothing to talk about. They will tell me everything I want to know and then tell everyone that I now rule this planet. This planet is mine, and those excrescences will die.”
He spun around, saw Jordan and had a feral grin on his face as he directed his ward. “Stay here! You are in command in my absence.”
Jordan flicked a glance at the screens, but said, “Should I try to break the encryptions on the computer archives, Sir?”
This diverted Kellex further. “Yes, do that. However, keep an eye on things from here. Perhaps you should restore the screens after I have gone. I don’t intend to let any of the other Warlords take this prize from me – particularly not the traitor that has those cowardly fighters attacking here. They fled when they saw my squadron coming.”
“Yes, Sir,” Jordan acknowledged with promptness, and Kellex smiled his feral smile before he commanded, “Take me back up, and return here.”
Once back in the great hall, he strode out of the palace and to his ship.
Using his mind link to Vila, as he watched Kellex blast off, Jordan told her what he had found, and warned her that Kellex was on his way back to his ship.
She in turn relayed what Kellex was sending to the other Warlords. As a squadron leader, her ship’s comm. could monitor the command frequencies. Apart from repeating the recorded message, Kellex told his peers that Jordan was in command at the Estate during his absence, and tried to find out who had sent planes to attack the Estate. Privately, Vila added, “If it was one of them, they won’t admit it. Personally, I say it has to be the Ciriot.”
Jordan shared her belief, but if Kellex didn’t want to believe the Ciriot were on Tymorea, that was his look out. Just thinking of their one time allies, made Jordan decide that having full screens back on the Estate was a very good idea. The Ciriot would return as soon as Kellex’s squadron was out of sight.
In the Temple, Tymos turned to Xan. “Kellex has the Governors’ message. He has told Jordan that he is in command in his absence. I recorded him saying that. He will be on his way here – right now.”
Xan paled.
Tymos grinned and said, “My friend, the Warlords will not be able to harm you here – remember.”
“You said weapons won’t work in here. What about fists and feet?” Xan retorted.
“No harm will come to you,” Tymos assured him. “And Kellex won’t be able to get in until the other five Warlords have all arrived.”
Without further fuss, Tymos transmitted away, and Xan found a place where he could watch for the expected arrivals.
The approaching hum of fighter planes was the first indication. When they were close enough, he recognised Kellex’s distinctive personal ship – painted in vivid green, in the lead. He had already noted that the aircraft that had been pounding the Temple shields had fled.
“Kellex will land and keep the squadron aloft,” Xan predicted, speaking aloud to himself. “Try to,” he corrected. He watched as Kellex circled the hill containing the Temple, lower and lower, and finally setting his ship down in front of the ornate main entrance.
“Doesn’t give a damn about the garden bed,” Xan noted. “I wonder which Warlord will arrive next. Zorrec? Voltec? Axec?
When he thought about his former mentor, Xan felt a combination of guilt and rage. However, the aura of peace in the Temple soon reaffirmed the