[05] Elite: Reclamation (32 page)

The man turned, gestured and grabbed her hand before racing away downhill. He jumped and Salomé found herself hurtling through the air, the ground dropping away below her.

Gravity! Like flying …

A stone whistled past her ear as they hit the ground again several metres forward.

Salomé realised they had dropped onto the far side of the mountain. Other peaks were ahead of them, but the ground dropped rapidly away below. The sparse vegetation quickly gave way to thicker cactus-like undergrowth.

Tall enough to hide in?

The man pushed onwards, fighting his way through the thickening vegetation. They fled, hearing the hollering of the zealots behind them. More stones flew, landing close by and tumbling into the undergrowth.

Salomé struggled to keep up. She felt what little stamina she had left ebb away. The man could certainly move.

They crashed on through the vegetation. Sharp thorns scratched at Salomé’s legs, but she paid no attention. The voices behind grew louder. She spared a backwards glance, but couldn’t see through the dry plants.

‘Can you swim, signorina?’

She looked back around. ‘Swim? No! Why?’

‘Good time to learn,’ the man turned, pulling her close alongside. The vegetation abruptly ended and they raced out over a drop. Salomé screamed as she plummeted through the air, arms windmilling, trying to stay upright as she fell. The water wasn’t far below, but the current was running in a curious slow motion, with cold surging melt water from the higher peaks. They both splashed into the torrent and were swept downstream.

She bobbed back to the surface, gasping in the sudden chill, struggling uselessly in the current. The water felt like syrup, the droplets from their splash still cascading down around them in slow motion. She caught a brief glimpse of the zealots standing atop the rise from which they had jumped, gesturing angrily towards her before they were swept out of sight behind a bend in the river.

***

Octavia placed her glass on the ornate table between herself and Dalk before letting out a deep breath.

‘You are a man of surprises,’ she said, running her finger around her mouth as she looked at him. ‘Nostalgia and whimsy? You?’

‘I’ve seen more than my share of death and destruction,’ Dalk returned. ‘All I want …’

‘The dream of the Frontier?’ she teased. ‘That old cliché? Heading out in quest of a new world to call your own? How dreary. You’ll need to go further than you think. That system of yours isn’t even on the Frontier now. Times change, the new hyperdrives for instance …’

‘Happiness can be found in many forms.’ Dalk finished his drink and replaced his glass beside hers. ‘Power, status, money. Is it strange that some of us simply desire to be left alone?’

‘You think you’ll ever be left alone on that moon?’

‘The Tantalum rush won’t last forever, five years at most. The mines provide a source of wealth that should be used to construct basic infrastructure, allowing the colonists to build an agrarian society.’

‘So you’ll be adding farmer Dalk to your list of personas?’

‘They still need a leader, someone to ensure …’

Octavia grinned. ‘So it is power you want.’

‘Only to manage things to ensure they are carried out properly.’

‘Power is power.’ Octavia licked her lips. ‘And now I understand why you need this girl. She is the last surviving heir, isn’t she? You plan to reinstate her, reclaim the moon for the Imperials?’

Dalk didn’t respond.

Octavia licked her lips. ‘So … it’s more subtle than that. That’s just a step on the way. You want an independent world free from interference.’ She paused, considering, ‘you’re going to get her to cede power to you. What if she doesn’t want to?’

‘She’s no politician.’ Dalk shrugged. ‘She’s the third daughter of a hated senator. She has no real ability or desire for such things. I trained her only so that she might survive the coup.’

Octavia nodded. ‘So her usefulness to you lasts only as long as she retains the ability to discharge her duties and transfer power to you.’

‘She will see things my way. Once her memory is correctly restored, she will come to rely on me as her trusted advisor once more. I will take the tedium of administration from her. With a little gentle persuasion she will be only too glad to hand over the reins.’

‘You’re so generous,’ Octavia replied. ‘And how will you stop the Imperials from interdicting your little moon and inserting a new Senator?’

‘Imperials are the most literal of people,’ Dalk replied. ‘Kahina will, in a surprise move, revoke the Imperial claim to the system, perhaps in a fit of remorse for the deaths she and her people have been responsible for. If that does not convince, I might broker a deal with local privateers, an exclusive deal for cheap access to the Tantalum in exchange for protection from hostile intervention. Do you know anyone who might be interested in that?’

Octavia smiled. ‘I do. A man named Solanac suggested the very same thing to me not so long ago.’

‘And then, after a discretionary interval, perhaps some other calamity may befall poor Kahina Tijani Loren.’ Dalk said, suggestively.

‘Once you have control, you will no longer need her.’

‘Perhaps she will take a trip back to her Imperial cousins. As you know, space travel remains fraught with danger …’

‘Who knows what dastardly villains lurk in the darkness between worlds.’

‘And one such villain might be tempted to put their own plans into play.’

Octavia sat back. ‘You’re asking me to wait, Dalk. I’m not a patient woman.’

‘The girl will be yours, Octavia. I only need her to cede power to me. Once that is done, I will arrange for her to be delivered. The greater wealth of the moon will be yours in exchange for defence. I just need some time.’

‘Three months, no longer.’ Octavia’s voice was firm. Dalk made to protest but she held up her hand. ‘I will wait no longer, Dalk.’

Dalk nodded. He paused for a moment and then resumed the conversation.

‘And you will do what with her?’

Octavia inclined her head. ‘Concern for your charge, Dalk? Do you feel guilt at manipulating a young woman’s life?’

‘Curiosity,’ Dalk replied. ‘And no, I feel no guilt. She is an Imperial. They are consumed with their arrogance and overinflated sense of self-worth, they talk endlessly of honour and yet integrity is not something they understand. Flamboyancy is piled upon barely concealed deceit. They court one another with false pleasure, barely concealing their lies and traitorous intentions. They are hollow and empty, bereft of humanity and decentness. I despise them all.’

Octavia nodded in appreciation at the venom in his voice. ‘The taciturn bounty hunter has emotions after all. Why Dalk, you should become an orator for the Federation.’

Dalk’s mouth curled with distaste. ‘With their obsession with money and facile celebrity? Cramming every moment of their lives with technological distraction? Education dumbed down, all opinions provided by advertising sponsored media? Despite their haughty claims to have banished slavery they fail to notice that the vast majority of their sleepwalking populace are wage slaves to the giant corporations. They’re more corrupt than the Imperials. I think not. And you still haven’t told me why you want her.’

Octavia stood up and poured herself another drink. Dalk declined when she gestured to him. She settled down in her chair again, crossing her legs.

‘I just want her.’

Dalk’s eyes narrowed. ‘She’s just a girl, barely a grown woman. A youth …’

‘And they say youth is wasted on the young,’ Octavia replied, her eyes bright with anticipation. ‘Yet who wouldn’t jump at the chance to revisit their youth with the wisdom of age? Let’s just say her youthfulness will not be wasted.’

Dalk’s eyes widened.

‘The pod? I’m not sure that’s even possible …’

‘She, one of so very few, is genetically compatible. My specialists have assured me it can be done. They know they have to be certain, I’m not very tolerant of failure.’

‘Or betrayal and theft it would seem.’

Octavia raised her head. ‘The boy? Would you have me let him go?’

‘He might know something about where the girl went. He revived her.’

Octavia paused for a long moment.

‘I will consider it. He might come in useful.’

‘Do we have a deal then?’

‘Your moon, defence from the Imperials?’

‘A fresh young girl delivered into your hands.’

They shook hands.

***

Salomé struggled up a small sandy bank, pulling herself free of the muddy river. She collapsed just out of the water, exhausted and shivering. Belatedly she realised she wasn’t alone. The man staggered up beside her. He’d grabbed her the moment she’d surfaced in the river, his arm locking around her neck and pulling her to shore.

‘Come signorina,’ he said. ‘Can’t stop here. Too open. They will follow.’

With a heavy sigh, she pulled herself upwards. Her legs were shaky and unsteady. The icy water had made her cuts and bruises sting sharply. The sun above was hot and the air humid, she stretched out, letting the warmth sooth her.

‘Who were they?’

‘Lunatico, fanatico,’ the man replied, walking onwards. ‘How you say? Mad. Crazy. Give them no thought. You are more important. What is your name?’

‘Salomé,’ she said, uncertainly.

‘Salomé?’ the man smiled and nodded, humming a tune to himself. ‘Do you dance?’

Salomé frowned. ‘Do I dance?’

‘Salomé, was famous dancer in legend. Driving men wild with desire.’ He winked at her. ‘A good name, no?’

‘It’s …’ Salomé decided she’d better not reveal any more for now. ‘And who are you?’

The man stretched to his full height, he was still shorter than her, but almost twice as wide. He had a heavy muscular build. He tipped his hat and bowed.

‘My name?’ he began grandly. ‘I am Luciano Prestigio Giovanni.’ There was much emphasis and flourish on the ‘Prestigio’.

‘Luchi …’

He winced at her pronunciation. ‘But … you may call me Luko.’

‘Luko.’

‘Close enough. Come, we must keep moving.’ He looked around, scanning the river behind them.

‘Where are we going?’

‘Back to my ship.’

‘You have a ship?’ Salomé said in delight. ‘Truly?’

‘Yes, signorina. Is not far. I have food, water and shelter too. But we must make haste. Come.’

He set off through the undergrowth. Salomé followed him, walking quickly to keep up. It was thick and damp down by the river bank. A mix of fern-like plants grew around them, some far taller than they were, providing ample shelter from the burning heat of the star above.

‘You said you heard my radio?’ Salomé asked.

Luko nodded. ‘Yes. Heard your call. Tried to reach you before the fanaticos. Sorry I was late.’

Salomé frowned. ‘Wait … why are you still here? If you have a ship …’

Luko grinned. ‘Ah, yes. A puzzle, no? Perhaps you will be able to help.’

They reached a gulley in the forest of ferns, with a sharp cliff running above them. A narrow crack in the wall allowed them into a rough passageway. Luko squeezed inside. Salomé followed him.

Luko pulled a small device out of his pocket. Salomé recognised it as a ‘glo’. Light flickered and they could see in the gloom. A fissure in the rock led onwards, barely wide enough for people to pass through.

‘The fanatico think these caves have ghosts,’ Luko chuckled to himself. ‘But, it is I who haunts them.’

‘Who are these fanaticos?’

‘Long time ago, this planet … it was a religious enclave. They came to escape science, escape technology, build a new society. Sometime centuries gone.’ Luko waved his arms expansively. ‘The planet is off limits, it is forbidden to trade here.’

‘So what happened?’

Luko laughed. ‘Life without technology? Is rubbish, signorina. Something went wrong. Bad storm, maybe climate shift. Not sure. In a few years they start to fight, only the strongest and maddest survive, preying on each other and anyone else unlucky to land here, rest is history. All that is left is crazy monks and their singing. Fanatico, yes?’

They carefully proceeded onwards. It was cool and damp, refreshing after the stifling heat outside. The fissure slowly widened into a passageway, interrupted by glistening rocks, moulded and shaped into strange, almost organic shapes.

‘Careful, signorina. Mind your head.’

Salomé ducked under the low roof and sidestepped a stalactite. As she walked around the corridor it widened into a cavern. Overhead, green-tinged light flickered down from cracks and holes in the vegetation cover. The cavern must have been some kind of small crater before the forest subdued and covered it. A perfect hiding place.

‘Ah, mia bellezza!’

Ahead of her, dominating the centre of the cavern, a ship stood on a tricycle undercarriage. It was unlike anything she’d ever seen before. It was stocky and wide, its hull composed of huge interlocking parts; a great series of flat triangular panels. There was not a single curve in evidence, it made even Hassan’s decrepit vessel look modern and svelte. From this angle she got a brief impression that she was looking at the disembodied head of a fierce snake.

Some kind of mechanism jutted out from the forward part of the ship, she guessed it was a weapon of some kind. Above that a cockpit canopy could be seen, grimy and stained. The whole ship was covered with algae, mildew and moss. It looked both sinister and forlorn all at once, more like a solemn monument than an actual working ship. It was abundantly clear that it hadn’t flown for years. A relic of a time long past.

‘That’s your ship?’ she asked, uncertainly.

Luko smiled, gazing on the vessel fondly. ‘My
Bella Principessa
.’

‘What kind of ship is it?’ she asked, wrinkling her nose at the dank smell around her.

Luko looked around at her in astonishment. ‘You not know?’

Salomé shook her head. ‘Should I?’

Luko looked dismayed. ‘The most famous ship in space? No?’

Salomé looked unimpressed. ‘That … that thing is famous?’

Luko spluttered. ‘Oh, now you hurt me, signorina. Do you not see? Look beyond the mess, see her elegant lines. Dual Ziemann energy deflection shields, Irrikon thruspace drive, Kruger lightfast engines. This … this is a Cobra and not just your ordinary Faulcon de Lacy Cobra!’