Alien Courage (Rise of the Empress) (33 page)

The Administrator was aware of the situation Toormis
was about to confront and kept silent. He strained his neck and looked out of
the ship. The planet below was covered in thick swirling cloud and after they
descended through the outer atmosphere the ships were enveloped completely in
white. The green of the tractor beam illuminating the nose cone of the
Starfighter and mysteriously pointed into the thick cloud creating an
illuminating halo of iridescent green.  The transport ship could not be
seen.

“Could get a little rough.
Brace
yourself
,” Toormis
said over his shoulder.

The ships broke through the upper cloud cover and were
immediately buffered by strong winds. The ships vibrated and swayed in the
onslaught. Flurries of snow slammed against the ships momentarily eliminating
any visual until the self cleaning mechanism cleared the screens. The
Administrator gasped as he looked below. Snow capped mountain peaks of
unbelievable size rose up to meet them. They stretched from horizon to horizon.
Deep valleys, ravines and glaciers separated the white peaks which had
stretching white veils caused by the howling wind and driven snow. Many
separate storm cells swirled amongst the mountain ranges. When the ships passed
over a tall peak and descended they entered the lee side out of an enormous
mountain and all became calm and quiet. Both men in the Starfighter were in awe
as they looked below and saw a massive river empty itself over a cliff and the
white spray twisted and twirled in its descent to the valley floor miles below.

“Commander.
I require increasing speed to manoeuvre through the
changing velocity of the atmospheric turbulence. Please close the distance
between the ships per my computer setting.
Transmitting now.”

Toormis leaned forward and punched some keys on his console.
“Affirmative Transporter.
Initiating
distance close
… now!”

“Zion land base signal now maximum at 10.00. Landing
computed and due in 8.2 micro time frames per…”

“Yes, thank you transporter. Just fly the ship
please.”

“Affirmative Commander.”

The Administrator badly wanted to say something but
held his breath instead as the distance between the nose cone of the
Starfighter came within an arm span of the Transporter’s hull. He could clearly
read the opening instructions on the hatches and service panels of the ship in
front. He closed his eyes and gripped his arm rest tightly as the ships dove
directly downwards barely missing a cliff wall. He opened his eyes and for a
brief instant saw the surprised look of a bird sitting in a rock crevice as their
ships hurtled past.

Looking directly in front past the transporter the
Administrator made out a thin slit of light in the side of the valley wall just
above the ground. He sat back relieved as he realised the light was coming from
the space dock doors opening from the android base below. 

A short time later the ships landed and the massive
doors of the space dock closed behind them. The crew of the Starfighter climbed
down the ladder to solid ground and staggered around momentarily as though intoxicated.
Both Toormis and the Administrator looked at each other and burst out laughing.
Toormis produced a flask and took a long draught and handed it to the
Administrator who had totally forgotten about Norfian composure, nodded a thank
you and raised the flask to his lips.

The large rear door on the transporter started to open
and the sound of rushing air filled the space dock as the internal pressure of
the space craft equalised with the atmosphere of Zion. The ramp quickly lowered
and Toormis waited expectantly. Cassy and a strange looking old man came into
view as the ramp reached the floor and locked into position.

Cassy ran down the ramp and into Toormis’s arms. She
just held him closely saying nothing. Torquay and the Administrator’s eyes met
and both men nodded to each other in silent surprise. Cassy finally broke her
silence and held Toormis at arm’s length.

“Oh Toormis,” she said quickly with worry etched
across her face. “What is going on? When we were in space we were ordered not
to communicate to anyone for whatever reason and then Irrimus’s communication’s
beacon went dead. It is as though they are not there.”

Toormis’s features went solid and stern. He realised
quickly that if the communication’s beacon signal went dead on Irrimus a serious
situation had developed at home. “I don’t know why Cassy,” he said softly.

Cassy looked closely at Toormis and the colour drained
from her face. “Why are you here? Where is father? And who is he? She said as
her eyes looked at the Administrator.

Toormis put his arm around her shoulder and turned her
away from Torquay and the Administrator. “Cassy,” he said softly as he led her
across the space dock. Torquay turned his head toward the Administrator and
inclined his head indicating the double doors which apparently led to the main
complex. Both men quietly turned and walked in that direction. They heard the
sound of Cassy’s voice screaming “No, oh no!” and the two men briefly glanced
backwards to see Cassy in Toormis’s arms with her head being tightly held
against his chest.

The two men went through the doors into the
administrative area of the space dock. The neat, clean and sterile environment
was familiar to the Administrator. He went directly to the electronic console
and switched it on. He brought up the security screen and while looking through
the glass panel through to the space dock entered the Starfighter and Transport
ship identification numbers into the system. The sound of an android’s
mechanical voice came over the speaker. “Systems verified and sequencing of
humanoid life support systems initiated. Welcome to Zion.
Awaiting
instructions.”

The Administrator nodded satisfied and pressed a
button and held it down, “thank you, display schematics of complex and local geographic,
planetary map and system chart.” The screen flashed and the requested images
materialised on the screen.

Torquay leaned forward and studied the images. “It’s a
rugged planet,” he said. “A most inhospitable place but it has a rare beauty.”
He looked at the Administrator. “I can’t say that I am all that surprised to
see you. The lack of basic communications from Irrimus is a concern for which I
have no definitive answer, do you?”

“No yet Torquay, but I will soon,” the Administrator
replied and tapped the console. “But not from this. I require a standard
Confederate model.” The Administrator looked through the panel into the space
dock and saw Toormis now talking to Cassy but still holding her. “Is he alive,
do you still have him?”

Torquay nodded in reply. “Yes, our Earthman is as well
as can be expected. He in is the transport vessel in the same capsule. “Tell me
why
are you
here, and what news of Lord Ambrae?”

“Ambrae is dead. Toormis told me he died on Ennack
apparently during my rescue. A T334 confronted him and he attacked it. I was
unconscious but I believe we were very lucky to have gotten away.”

Torquay’s eyes opened wide in alarm, the
Administrator‘s data quickly added the missing gaps in his understanding. He
kept his surprise contained that the Administrator was rescued and not
eliminated. “We are in immediate danger. I strongly believe the House of
Irrimus must be under complete Trigealian Intervention. This planet and complex
will be monitored. We must leave immediately.”

The Administrator realised what Torquay was saying.
The sequence of events led obviously to that conclusion. “I must get to a
standard Confederate communication’s console,” he said, turned and ran back
into the space dock.

“Toormis!” the Administrator shouted. Toormis and
Cassy were seated on some empty cargo crates. Toormis looked up annoyed while
Cassy kept her head bent low. “I’m very sorry to disturb you,” the
Administrator said running up to them, Torquay followed a short distance
behind. “It is imperative we find out what has happened to Irrimus. There is
every indication Irrimus is under Trigealian Intervention. Johe, Lord Ambrae,
the incident on Ennack and the ordered ‘no communications’ as Irrimus Space
Command‘s last communiqué. We must confirm it, and then leave immediately if
that is correct. I must get to a Confederate communications console
immediately.”

Toormis stood up quickly, his eyes bright and watchful
and resting on Torquay. “Cassy told me about you Torquay, please stay with her.
Administrator
follow
me.” He ran from the space dock
and through the double doors and down a passage way to a locked door. He
produced a card from his pocket and inserted it in a slot beside the door. The
door swung open and he ran up the stairs followed by the Administrator. Soon
they entered a small Irrimus Space Command centre, space charts and vessel
identification charts lined the walls. A standard Confederate communications
console was against the far wall.

“There you are Administrator,” Toormis said pointing,
“but Confederate Space Command can monitor your communications. They’ll know
someone is here,” realising they probably do anyway with the explosion and
radio traffic around the forth planet.

“Not my way they won’t, the fact this console in turned
on will not alert too much attention, it’s automatically programmed to do that
anyway,” the Administrator replied and noticed the quizzical look on Toormis’s
face. “You do the flying but leave the communications with Confederate Space
Command to me… relax, but I first need the maintenance tool box and the spare
parts that come with this communication console.”

Toormis went to a large metal locker and opened it. He
dragged out a large toolbox and flipped it open, “there you go and there are
plenty of components in the cabinet,” he said indicating it with his hand. He
left the room and returned to Cassy.

The Administrator soon had many components laid out
across the floor and began assembling an arm console. It would not be quite as
effective as his original the Assengi took but he soon had one working well
enough and it gave him a great sense of comfort to be able to access his
skeletal memories. 

The Administrator turned the communication’s console
on and set the frequency. He then scanned the communication’s console with his
arm console, keyed some buttons on his arm and hit the transmit button. His arm
gently hummed and then went still when the communication was complete. His arm
console used the communication’s carrier wave to send a message that vibrated
at the frequency of the electrical field of his body. This frequency could only
be interpreted by a Norfian with a similar frequency; to anyone else it’s just
background static. 

In a matter of seconds his arm console hummed with a reply
from his Norfian colleague in Space Command. The Administrator read the data
scrolling across his small arm screen. He tightened his muscles and his eyes
flickered. His composure now reverted back to being a Norfian Administrator;
his recent adventures were now aligned with the rest of his skeletal
programming. He realised, even though his career is over he will almost
certainly be summarily executed if caught, the Assengi will make sure of that.
However, the last time frame or two with its high risk of death had also been
filled with intense activity, adventure and rapid changing of locations; he had
never felt so alive. He briefly admired Toormis but reluctantly put him in the
context of someone he didn’t really know, therefore trust.

“What is it?” Toormis said anxiously from the door, he
had returned to see if there was any success with the communications.

“Bad news I’m afraid.
Very bad news.
Irrimus and all of her influence are now under Trigealian Intervention.
Trigeals are actually on Irrimus in numbers and all Irrimus personnel both
military and civilian are being arrested and interned wherever they are found.
Obviously Zion has not been intervened as yet. Probably because it is only an
android base but it is only a matter of time. The Volen alone will break any
restrictions just to come here and strip this base of its assets. No controlled
conflicts are being permitted by the Trigeals for Irrimus‘s assets at this
time. That is the only good news I’m afraid.”

Toormis staggered backwards stunned, and sat on a
table. His face lost its colour and his breath came in long hard gulps.

“We’re dead men!” he stammered. There’s nowhere to
go.”