A closer inspection of the cell failed to produce anything that he could use as a weapon and as yet he could not identify any way of forcing his escape. The door was hinged from the outside and lacked a keyhole on the inside. He checked his pockets and was not surprised to discover they had been emptied. He would need to be alert; escape would depend on opportunities made available through his captors’ carelessness. He decided to preserve his energy, perhaps to sleep, and shaped the bale of straw into a faint resemblance of a pillow. He stretched out, forcing himself to relax.
Dawn eventually arrived, heralded by the glow of external light. A pale sunlit square formed high on the wall opposite the grilled window, above the door. As the sun rose the square of light began a slow march down the wall. Steg measured its progress with growing impatience. He decided to exercise in an attempt to free his muscles from the cramp and stiffness caused by his cold and uncomfortable bed. The square of sunshine was still well above the door when Steg heard new sounds outside his cell.
Before he could reach the door it swung open, inwards, on double hinges, hitting the wall with its heavy momentum. Steg assessed the risks. Two young Imperial Security lieutenants, their features familiar, stood in the doorway, each holding a stunner ready for use. Steg hoped the weapons were set on low. Standing behind the two officers was the jailer, a heavy ring of keys hanging from his belt, both a symbolic and practical badge of office. Steg forced himself to relax, to relax without lessening his alertness.
“You—come on out.” The speaker was nervous and uncertain.
“Ha—so you wish to free me. Good.” Steg moved rapidly. He quickly placed himself between the two young men so that each was at risk from the other’s stunner. They realized their error, but not before Steg had dealt two powerful blows aimed at each windpipe. The two officers sagged, gagging and gasping for breath. The jailer stepped back, well out of reach, and signaled to his accompanying prison guards. Steg, however, had taken hold of one of the officers and swung the young man’s semi-conscious body up as a shield, at the same time taking control of his stunner. The other weapon was on the floor and he kicked it back into the cell, well out of anyone’s reach. The jailer and his guards froze at Steg’s threatening motion with the stunner.
“Well, gentlemen,” said Steg. “Who is going to straighten out this little misunderstanding?”
No one replied. Further down the row of cell doors, Steg could see another officer striding towards the frozen tableau. He was a colonel, of the same regiment as the two younger officers. The newcomer stopped some yards away and Steg was surprised to observe genuine humor in his smile.
“I told you, Ranald, if he was a de Coeur, you should have chained and manacled him.” Ranald was apparently now serving as Steg’s human shield.
“I doubt Ranald can reply.” Steg had his left arm tightly around his victim’s neck with his elbow under his chin, effectively cutting off speech, oxygen, and blood flow. He held the stunner in his right hand, ready for use.
“I surmised that was so,” the newcomer nodded. “If you ease off the pressure just a shade, he may be able to resume breathing.”
“And I should be concerned, because?”
“Fair question, in the circumstances. All right. Jailer—Steyne, is it? Yes, take your men and go elsewhere, look after your other victims. I’ll be responsible for this gentleman.”
The jailer was reluctant to obey the instruction.
“Go, damn you or I’ll have you in one of your torture chambers. Good. Take your men.” As the jailer and his men moved away, the speaker turned back to Steg. “A small beginning, I suppose. Now will you let the lad breathe? He’s gone rather a strange color.”
Steg released his hold and the young officer dropped to his knees, coughing and struggling for air. His second captor had scuttled away and was trying to stand. Steg held onto the stunner.
“I did ask a little while ago if someone would straighten out this—misunderstanding.”
“Yes, I heard you. Although I am unsure—yet—if it really is a misunderstanding.”
Steg tensed. The stunner was aimed now at the speaker.
“Yes, you are armed.” The older man was relaxed. He acknowledged the weapon in Steg’s hand. “Undoubtedly you can cause some damage with that stunner. However, my men are loyal, and the survivors, somewhere between here and daylight above these dungeons, would not accept the dishonor of permitting you to leave alive, if you were so rash as to kill me. Now I think you’ll cooperate because I can discern some elements of good sense in you, which is more than I can say for these two.”
Steg accepted the admonition. “Very well.” He lowered the weapon. “I can only say I would like this to be settled and above all would like to be free of these dungeons of yours.”
“Indeed, I understand,” the colonel said. “However, these two—gentlemen—have made an interesting claim. They say you are one de Coeur, wanted for some outlawry or other. If this is all false, I will escort you wherever you want to go.”
“I must dispute their somewhat far-fetched claim. My name is Stephen Ross and of course I can confirm my identity.”
“Yes, I understand. We both know how easily a person can obtain forged identities. Costly perhaps, but possible.” The speaker’s tone contained an element of irony in, as though urging Steg to improve his defense.
“Perhaps I should add that I’m a commissioned officer of the Fleet, due to muster on ss
Ziangka
, which is scheduled shortly to lift off?” His words dropped into a churning pond of disbelief and consternation.
“Well, well. My lads have landed themselves in a mess this time.” He turned a disdainful glare on the two young officers.
“He’s lying, sir. He has to be.” The less injured of the two had found his voice; it contained a mixture of pain and uncertainty.
“You think so?” The colonel’s mien was foreboding. “This has worsened—it has gone from stupidity to a possible court-martial.” He turned back to Steg. “You can, of course, support your contention?”
“Yes, sir. My name is Stephen Ross and I hold the rank of lieutenant in the Fleet, and I am due on board ss
Ziangka
by noon today. Assuming of course that I have not been ‘illegally detained and unlawfully prevented from attending to my appointed office and duties’.” Steg quoted the phrasing of the regulations, breach of which could unleash the wrath of the Fleet.
“Lieutenant Ross, Colonel Croix at your service. Would you care to accompany me to my office where we should be able to straighten out this—misunderstanding? You may retain that weapon if you wish.”
“Sir,” Steg acknowledged the introduction. He looked at the weapon. “Thank you.”
“Indeed.” Colonel Croix turned to the two young officers, both now chagrined and belatedly realizing the enormity of the potential penalty their actions had attracted. “You two—you are now under house arrest. Report to the medic and make sure you have no permanent damage and report back to me immediately. Do not delay or try to evade my orders. I’ll continue with my investigations and decide the charges when I have more details.”
The colonel watched them walk off and turned back to Steg. “Come now, follow me.”
Steg followed cautiously; fully alert in case of a further attack by the young officers. He did not altogether trust their colonel, notwithstanding his apparent openness.
“No,” commented Colonel Croix as he led the way. “I don’t think they’ll try anything. For the moment they are too shaken. But if the Fleet disowns you or the computer throws out your identity and you really are a de Coeur, wanted for some Imperial offense, I will have no hesitation in arresting you.”
As this one-sided conversation continued they had moved out of the dungeons and proceeded along winding corridors and up flights of stairs, until Steg lost his orientation completely.
“Now I suppose you would like to shower, get rid of the detritus from that dungeon, change into some clean clothes? While you do that I’ll organize breakfast for both of us.”
“That sounds like an excellent plan,” agreed Steg
“It can be arranged. Now, come through here—these are my personal quarters. You have my word that no one will harm you here. Of course, you have that weapon.”
“Thank you, Colonel.” Steg placed the stunner on a table and hoped he would have no further need of it. He had accepted the invitation aware that while he was cleaning up, the colonel would be checking both his identity and his claim to a Fleet commission. He discarded his filthy evening clothes—he decided white was not a suitable dungeon color—and showered, scrubbing away the stink of the cells. He was changing into the clothing donated by the colonel from unknown sources, when the now familiar green words penetrated his awareness.
*Steg de Coeur. This is Althere Complex. Acknowledge.*
*This is Steg de Coeur.*
*Search program initiated for Steg de Coeur, by Colonel Croix, Imperial Security Force. This Complex provided responses as follows. Negated image was Steg de Coeur. Matched image with Stephen Ross. Origin Anglestar system. Negated dual identity Steg de Coeur. Confirmed Stephen Ross holds commission with Imperial Fleet. Report ends.*
*Thank you Althere Complex. Please continue monitor program.*
So
, thought Steg,
the colonel had grabbed an image along the way
. He finished dressing and walked across to the colonel’s office. He sat on one of the seats outside the door and examined the stunner while he waited.
After a few minutes the door swung open and the colonel beckoned. An orderly had set out breakfast for two. The colonel regarded Steg with a smile of reluctant admiration, tinged with bitterness.
“Well, Lieutenant Ross, Fleet indeed has a new recruit. A very astute one, it seems. My young lads will be more than disappointed. One day, when this is all over, you must tell me how you arranged it, hmm?”
“Thank you, sir.” Steg was about to continue when he was interrupted by a knock on the door.
“Enter,” the colonel commanded. The door was promptly opened and the two junior lieutenants entered, accompanied by another lieutenant and a civilian. Steg thought he had seen the civilian somewhere before and tried to recollect where and when.
“Gentlemen?”
“Sir, Ranald and Gould reporting as ordered.”
“Very good. And you, Hanby?”
“Sir, I have a witness who observed the fugitive de Coeur in sword combat.”
“Who was the unfortunate opponent?”
“Marius of the House of Aluta, sir.”
“Marius? And he lost?”
“Yes, sir. A fortunate stroke of luck on the part of de Coeur, according to the reports.”
“I daresay. The name of your—witness?”
“Terin, also of the House of Aluta, sir.”
“Hmm. Hardly an unbiased source. However, I must disappoint you. A full check was processed just minutes ago, and it confirmed the identity of our guest. I would like you to meet Stephen Ross, Lieutenant Stephen Ross, Imperial Fleet.”
“There must be some mistake, sir.”
“I said a full check was made.”
“Colonel?”
“Yes, Mr. Terin?”
“May I suggest with respect, that your—guest—is Steg de Coeur? House of Aluta has posted a very substantial reward for his capture and it will take a most concerned view—”
“Mr. Terin. This gentleman is my guest. You are a visitor without any official standing and your choice of words is likely to place me in a position where I may need to preserve and protect my honor as an officer of Imperial Security. Are you prepared to permit such a course of events to follow?”
“No, of course not, Colonel. I withdraw my comments and confirm no insult was intended.” The civilian had paled and quickly backed away from his earlier brashness.
“Now please leave my office, Mr. Terin. You have no business here.”
The colonel waited until the civilian closed the door. He moved to his desk and keyed instructions into his workstation. “Consider this, gentlemen. First, I must advise you that these proceedings now are under official record. This meeting and court hearing is being recorded. Officers Ranald and Gould, you stand charged with assault and kidnap of one Lieutenant Ross, Imperial Fleet. You have, in the words quoted by Lieutenant Ross earlier today, illegally detained and unlawfully prevented him from attending to his appointed office and duties. Also, by your actions, you have brought Imperial Security into disrepute. I could add conspiracy, and perhaps other offenses. However, that is enough for you to consider unless you wish me to expand the charges. I am obliged to ask each of you, how do you plead? Oh, before you respond, I need to point out that you can either plead guilty and accept my verdict now, or plead not guilty and then appear before a full court-martial. That could result in a term of imprisonment. Further, if this matter is not dealt with expeditiously, Fleet could claim jurisdiction. Now, how do you plead?”
The two young officers paled. The third officer prepared to interject and decided against such action at the challenging stare from the colonel.
“Sir, I plead guilty.”
“Sir, I plead guilty.”
The statements were almost simultaneous. Colonel Croix turned to Steg.