DARK ORBIT: The complete series, page 65
He was certain that Alvarez would have hidden him away before laying out his deadly ambush but, considering the state Dhau Zu had been in the last time Lang had seen him, there was no guarantee that he’d still be alive when they went to collect him. And if Dhau Zu really was dead then where would that leave them?
He tried to push any thoughts about Alvarez to the back of his mind but it was difficult. Alvarez had plenty of experience as far as explosives were concerned and should have been able to keep himself safe. But nothing Lang had seen suggested that Alvarez had got away unharmed.
If Alvarez had been killed outright then that was one thing, but Lang couldn’t get away from the thought that he might be lying out there slowly bleeding to death. The sooner they could get to him the better.
Lang became aware of Dr Anderson putting away her terminal and looked up to see that Reznik was bringing the meeting to a close. To his right, Suarez had her head down and looked to be half asleep, though no one could blame her. After spending nights out in the cold desert air it made for a pleasant change to be sitting somewhere so warm and accommodating.
Now, all Lang needed was a hot meal and he could die happy.
Lang went over and put a hand on Suarez’s shoulder, indicating that it was time to leave. She took a moment to come around but seemed relieved that the meeting was finally over. It had been a stressful interlude for all of them and the fact that they’d arrived at some kind of resolution, no matter how tenuous came as a blessed relief.
As they moved towards the door, Reznik who was just coming around the other side of the table, invited them to go ahead. Lang wasn’t sure where they were headed, he just wanted to get out of there so that they could find someplace they could get something to eat. He was starving.
The main door opened inwards, and they were suddenly confronted by a heavily armed security team. There were five of them and as Lang made to push his way between them, one of the men moved up to block him.
Lang just stood there waiting for the guy to move. He was tired and in no mood for these kinds of power plays. But the guy wouldn’t budge.
Seemed that they hadn’t taken kindly to him taking out members of their crew, though if the tables had been reversed, Lang probably wouldn’t have been too happy about it either.
They stood at an impasse until Reznik arrived.
“First officer,” Reznik said. “I’d like you to take Staff Sergeant Lang and Lance Corporal Suarez into custody.”
As hands went to secure his arms, Lang turned to confront Reznik. “Really? Is this how you want to playthings?”
Reznik looked uncomfortable but it didn’t last long.
Gelart stepped up to read out the charges and the next thing, they were both being bundled away.
CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN
They locked Lang in one of the officer’s cabins. He would have liked to think that this was a concession to his rank, but on reflection he realise that this was a decision which had been forced on them. They’d no doubt want to keep the officers Gelart arrested isolated in the main brig where they could guarantee to keep them separated from any of the other crew members who might be sympathetic to their cause. The last thing Reznik wanted was for someone to try and liberate them.
Lang couldn’t help thinking that while they were stuck in here, Alvarez would be out in the desert, no doubt seriously injured.
As far as Reznik was concerned, Lang and Suarez posed much less of a threat. No doubt both he and Suarez had been locked up in the rooms that the Gobe friendly officers had so recently vacated. Someone had obviously been over the place clearing out all the official paperwork and anything that could feasibly be used as a weapon but everything else – all the officer’s personal effects – had been left behind.
There was also a more practical element here. The rooms were built for one, came equipped with locks and had their own shower and toilet facilities. Considering where Lang had spent the last few nights, the accommodation was verging on luxurious.
The only disappointment was the food. Delivered by armed guard, what he was presented with was all plant based. It looked like what it was: reconstituted mush, but that didn’t stop him from eating it. He’d chosen to take his food sitting at the officer’s desk and while he ate he’d tried to get into the ship’s main computer.
It had been easy enough to get into the ship’s basic systems, it had only been when he’d tried to get into specific programs that he’d found his access denied. But then he’d had a thought.
Reaching inside his tunic he’d pulled out his dog tags. Hanging alongside these was the key ring Cooper had given him back on Norilsk. This key ring, he’d since determined, was a sophisticated microfiche and he’d taken the opportunity to insert this into the computer.
It hadn’t taken long for a list of files to appear on the screen. He’d clicked on one and it had come up straightaway, not that he was able to make any sense of it. It had shown endless lines of data broken up by long lines of calculations. He couldn’t even begin to think what the significance of it all might be but he had a strong sense that it was somehow important.
He’d randomly clicked through a series of similar files but there was nothing there that he could remotely understand so he’d withdrawn the microfiche and put the chain back around his neck. Then he lain down on the bed and slept for five hours.
He had woken feeling refreshed. Then after a shower, he’d changed into some casual wear which had belonged to the cabin’s previous occupant. The fleece he found fitted well enough but the jogging bottoms were a little on the short side. Still, at least they were clean.
He was sitting on the bed massaging the back of his calf where he’d been shot when there was a loud knocking on the door.
“Stand back from the door!” someone shouted. “Failure to comply will result in you being stunned.”
Lang went over to stand against the far wall. Let them think he posed no threat.
A member of the security team stepped inside wearing full riot gear. There were two other similar figures in the hallway. After reassuring himself that Lang posed no immediate threat, the man proceeded to check out the cabin. When he was satisfied, he stepped back outside.
A couple of seconds later, Superior Savic appeared. He was wearing a simple grey clerical uniform which was a far cry from what he normally wore.
“You may leave us,” he said, stepping inside. “I’ll be quite safe.”
As the door slid shut, Lang said, “You sure about that?”
“Quite sure. Shall we sit down?”
“I’d rather stand.”
They stood staring at one another. Savic’s face was red and puffy but other than that he looked well rested. He glanced at the only chair in the room but remained standing.
“What can I do for you?” Lang said.
“I have a proposition for you.”
“Another one?” Lang said scornfully. “Let me guess. Is this another one where I save your ass just so you can have me arrested?”
Savic’s gaze took in the whole room. “It was necessary to put you here for your own protection.”
Lang folded his arms. “Because of those sentries?”
“You did what you felt you had to. Perhaps, under the circumstances, it was unavoidable. But this has created fresh complications which we could have well done without.”
Savic went over to look at some of the personal photos displayed on the wall.
“We’ll be heading out into the desert in an hour or so. I wondered if you’d like to join us.”
“What about Suarez?”
“She’ll have to remain here, I’m afraid.”
That came as no surprise. If they let the pair of them go it would be the same as an open invitation for them to escape. Not that there was anywhere to go.
“I don’t understand. Why take me?”
“As I’m sure you’re aware,” Savic looked around the room. “Or perhaps you’re not. The situation amongst the crew is rather fluid at the moment. By locking up the officers loyal to Palnak Gobe, Reznik has managed to alienate a fair number of the crew. Currently, he’s still in charge but it’s a very volatile situation. It wouldn’t take much to tip the balance either way.”
“And how does that affect me?”
“There’s a grav-sled leaving in just under an hour. The hope is that we’ll be able to locate Viceroy Dhau Zu.”
“And you’d like me to help navigate.”
Savic pursed his lips. “You do have your uses.”
“What happens if we get there and the Viceroy’s dead?”
“We’ll deal with that if and when it happens.”
Lang nodded. He could see where this was going.
“You think I’m going to protect you? After all that’s happened.”
“Yes I do. Because you need me. Let’s face it: I’m the only reason you and your friend here are still alive.”
Savic was too clever for Lang and he knew it. Without making any direct threat, he’d subtly drawn Suarez into the discussion. The implication was clear: so long as Lang cooperated, Suarez would be safe.
Lang felt deflated. This wasn’t what he’d envisaged but at the same time he didn’t feel that he had much choice.
“And if by some miracle, the Viceroy has managed to survive, what then?”
“Isn’t it obvious?” Savic said. “Once we’ve got him back onboard, this ship becomes his flagship.”
Lang tried to find some weakness in this plan but he was struggling.
Finally, he said, “What about Reznik. You think he’ll go along?”
“He made his choice as soon as he had those officers arrested. And then, with the Viceroy aboard, his captaincy will very quickly take on a new legitimacy. The exercise of power can be quite hypnotic at times. By the time we get to the next planet, all but the staunchest of Palnak Gobe’s supporters will have sided with Dhau Zu.”
“You really believe that?”
“Don’t judge me now, staff sergeant, judge me in twenty-four hours. Either we’ll both be lying out in the desert somewhere or we’ll be on our way back to the Capitol.” Savic watched as Lang started opening various cupboards. “May I ask what you’re doing?”
“I’m looking to see whether this guy has got a decent jacket. Don’t want to get cold sitting out on that grav-sled.”
CHAPTER TWENTY-EIGHT
Commander Gelart had been put in charge of the Search and Rescue team tasked with locating the Viceroy. Lang was surprised to see him again, expecting him to stay behind in order to support the captain, but Gelart had told Savic that he didn’t anticipate any problems until after they returned from their mission. Simply put, both sides were heavily invested in the state of Dhau Zu’s health.
If it transpired that he was in fact dead then the Gobe factions onboard would have reason to celebrate. But if he had, by some miracle, survived, then the Viceroy’s supporters would be in the ascendancy. And, since matters were so finely balanced, Reznik had given clear instructions that there should be no radio communication between Gelart’s party and the ship. As a result, no one would know the true state of play until after the party returned. Not that that that would make much of a difference. Their findings would quickly percolate through to the ship somehow, they always did, and with far-reaching and potentially devastating results.
As Lang saw it, the mission would be resolved in one of two ways. If it transpired that the Viceroy was dead, there was virtually no chance that Reznik would still be in charge come the end of the day. It didn’t matter who backed him, the crew would act to free the imprisoned officers and it would escalate from there. Although, similarly, if the Viceroy were still alive, Lang couldn’t see how anyone would move to act against him. The Archetypes were, after all, generally viewed as being akin to gods. The idea that any of the crew might consider opposing one of them seemed highly unlikely.
Accompanying Lang and Savic in the grav-sled, was Gelart along with eight other crewmembers of various ranks. He didn’t know why they needed so many people but he did know that one was a doctor and another a xenobiologist. If Dhau Zu really were dead, they wanted to be sure.
Savic didn’t speak to anyone throughout the whole journey and the crew were smart enough not to try and engage with him. The weight of expectation was weighing on all of them.
It took slightly less than an hour for them to travel out to the site but to Lang, they seemed to arrive there all too quickly. He wasn’t looking forward to what they might find.
They stopped a couple of hundred yards short of where the Sandcrawler had been left. Gelart went on ahead, accompanied by a gruff looking sergeant, the doctor and the xenobiologist.
Lang had expected that Savic would have insisted that he go with them but he hadn’t. Perhaps he already suspected what was coming and was working on his next plan of action. Lang had no idea how they were going to get out of this one if things went bad but he was, frankly, past the point of caring.
Whatever was going to happen would happen.
So, they just sat in silence, with Lang holding up a hand every once in a while to shield his eyes from the sun.
They were too far away to be able to make out what was happening down in the gully. Every once in a while, they saw heads moving about but that was all. There was no sense of urgency, no rising panic.
The only thing Lang could think about was Alvarez and what might have happened to him. The ground around the defile was scorched black from the heat of the explosions and Lang thought that he could see something that could have been a body, though he wasn’t even sure about that.
It was starting to get dark when they saw the sergeant walking back in their direction. He pointed at Savic.
“Superior. If you’d like to come with me.”
“Very well, but I’d like Staff Sergeant Lang to accompany me.”
The man shot Lang a warning look.
“Very well. But the rest of you are to stay where you are.”
By the time they arrived at the edge of the gully, Gelart’s team had started setting up flashlights. Time was of the essence here and they didn’t have the luxury of being able to set up a proper camp. They needed to complete their investigations before heading straight back to the ship.
Up close, Lang could see that vegetation surrounding the gully had been burnt black for fifty feet in all directions so there could be no doubts about the effectiveness of Alvarez’s ambush. Lang had attended the sites of a number of big explosions and the results were always horribly predictable. And such was the case here. The blast from the explosions had been intensified by the fact that they were in a natural rift so the energy had had nowhere to escape to other than up. That probably explained why the gully itself looked wider than when he’d last seen it. A section on this side appeared to have collapsed completely. There were various body parts scattered about and every so often he was able to pick out the shape of an actual person but he didn’t need to be a doctor to see that most of them would have died more or less instantly.
When he’d finished getting his bearings, Lang jumped down into the gully itself and instantly regretted it as his leg buckled under him. His leg was still sore from where he’d been shot but there didn’t seem to be any major damage. At least, not as far as he could tell.
Alvarez’s body was a lot further back than he’d expected and partially covered in sand. He struggled to recognise him at first as his chest and face had been burnt black from the blast. Lang had expected to feel something at this moment but found it hard to relate to the figure lying in the sand. In death, he seemed impossibly frail which was odd because that wasn’t an observation he’d have ever made about Alvarez in life.
He was aware that he would need to be very clear with Suarez when he got back that he had actually confirmed Alvarez’s death and so he started to run through the checks he needed to do. It was only when he was checking for a pulse on his neck that he saw the rose tattoo which covered most of his neck.
He’d once asked him about that.
“This? This here’s the yellow rose of Texas, hermano.”
Removing his dog tags was difficult because the heat had fused the chain to his skin, so that Lang ended up breaking the chain in order to remove it. Then it was a question of searching through his pockets to uncover any personal items which produced a cheap St Christopher medal along with a baggie containing a couple of grams of some drug.
He felt a little frustrated by this. He wanted something more personal, so he ended up taking Alvarez’s belt as well. It was of a Colonial Marine Corps design, totally against regs on an undercover mission like this but Luis Alvarez had never been the sort to stick to the rules.
Lang could only hope that the belt might bring some solace to one of his sisters.
It was only once he’d finished with Alvarez that he looked across and saw the travois laying on its side. The parachute silk, now in tatters, was fluttering in the wind.
There was something lying hunched underneath it. Lang thought that he knew what it was but he was surprised to see that it was missing its tentacles which had previously made up the bulk of its bodyweight.
He bent down and pressed his fingers against the tattered silk which had fused with the flesh when the fabric had melted. If he pressed too hard on the body, it sagged in the middle and he realised that what he was looking at was not the Viceroy at all. At least, not anymore. This was some kind of husk: a soft outer shell which had split down the middle. When he backed up a bit he could peer inside if he could get his head low enough. The inside of the shell was completely black. At first, he assumed it was as a result of the heat created by the explosion but, as he bent lower, he saw that the entire surface appeared to be moving.
To his horror, he realised that everything was covered by a sea of ants and that they were slowly eating away at the soft shell.
As he pulled back, he became aware of Savic who’d been standing watching all this.
“Well,” Lang said. “I suppose that’s that.”
