The Archer's Paradox - The Travis Fletcher Chronicles (22 page)

The sniper was still unconvinced and his trigger finger twitched over the button that would end the
Ts’ats’aak’s
life without her even knowing she was in danger. Wingu Kanzu’s fingers gripped the sniper’s shoulder just hard enough to make his point, not enough to trigger a muscle spasm in the sniper’s arm. With a mental expletive the sniper withdrew his weapon back into their hiding place.

Follow her but remain hidden.

The weapon was dismantled in moments and secreted in the sniper’s robes. He stood up and hid his fair skin, blond hair and cruel blue eyes behind an intricately decorated cowl.

Do nothing without reporting back to me.

You are not my Commander.
The sniper retorted.

No, but if we are discovered neither of us will survive to make a report to your Commander.

The sniper grunted and slunk off after his quarry like a predator stalking its prey.

At the entrance to the gardens, Sundaravāda Ci
ṭṭ
e turned right towards her tower in the Mukhapu
ṭ
a sector. She had a vague feeling of disquiet at the back of her mind warning her that something was wrong.

Wingu Kanzu waited a few minutes before leaving in the opposite direction. Maybe it was prudent to act now rather than wait for the Council to lurch to its own conclusions. He cursed the stupidity of the so called Children of Éðel. Why did they have to go barging into the Council, stamping their feet and banging their chests like a tribe of primitives and demanding that Travis Fletcher be handed over to them? Maybe he does share more genes with them
than with any other of the Xi Scorpii races, but that is not the point. If they had waited, as he had told them, until the old
Ts’ats’aak
had finished her work, he could have arranged for Travis Fletcher to be spirited out of the City and off this accursed planet before anyone noticed. Maybe Níwlíc Éðel was no paradise, but it was better than living under a dome surrounded by dessert. Damn their arrogance! Now he would have to get Travis Fletcher
and
Sundaravāda Ci
ṭṭ
e away, tonight.

After Sundaravāda Ci
ṭṭ
e had left the Council Chamber a heated discussion sprang up about the possible motives for Wingu Kanzu’s apparent discrediting of Xnuk Ek’. It was obvious that she had discovered something that would dishonour Wingu Kanzu and the debate circled round what that might be. It did not take long to make a link between Wingu Kanzu and the delegation they had received earlier from the descendants of Xi Scorpii E. As the debate went on around him, K'an Aayin played back the meeting of the Children of Éðel. Where the other four races had learned to put aside their differences and work together for the good of all the Xi Scorpii, the Children of Éðel had inherited their ancestors’ grudges and still wanted revenge for the destruction of Éðel. Where the remaining four had turned their attention to reconciliation and the resurrection of Otoch, Children of Éðel had turned to acquisition by conquest. The Ghosts of Éðel had truly returned to haunt them.

“We should move Travis Fletcher to new quarters.” he injected into the debate. The Chamber fell silent, waiting for him to explain his outburst. “If Wingu Kanzu is indeed a traitor and he is in league with the Children of Éðel, then Travis Fletcher is in immediate danger.”

**********

It was getting late and Travis had just come out of the bathroom. It seemed that this alien ‘beer’ had the same effect on him as beer did on Earth. Then it was Jagā No Ashi’s turn. He was a little unsteady on his feet and giggled as his shoulder bumped into the door frame of the bathroom as he misjudged his step slightly.

The door chime sounded. Bemused, Travis moved to open the door, wondering who could be calling this late at night. Doesn’t anyone sleep round here?

“Travis Fletcher, no, wait!”

Travis turned to see his friend, suddenly sober, standing in the bathroom door with his arms outstretched, but it was too late; Travis had already activated the door and five men burst in. Four were fair-haired and fair-skinned, with blue eyes, and wearing black uniforms with silver insignias, waving ugly looking weapons around menacingly. The fifth was taller with skin the colour of ebony and dark golden eyes.

Wingu Kanzu extended an arm and beckoned Travis over, his lips curled in an unfriendly smile. Travis was rooted to the spot in terror. This was the second time he had had a gun pointed at him and both within the space of a couple of weeks. Out of the corner of his eye he saw what looked like a miniature sun, white hot and about the size of a large marble, streak past and bury itself in the forehead of one of the blonde men. He dropped his gun, screamed in pain, fell sideways clutching the wound and lay still. Travis turned to see his friend with a look of determination on his face and a second energy ball forming in the palm of his hand, but he never got chance to release it, as the remaining three gunmen answered. Their weapons cracked like whips as three beams pierced his chest, pinning him momentarily to the wall. He looked at Travis apologetically, then collapsed to the floor with smoke curling up from three holes in his back and all his major organs ruptured by the disruptive charge carried by the beams.

“No!” Travis ran to his friend and turned him over. He had never seen a dead body before, except on the news, let alone seen anyone die in front of him. Hot tears stung his eyes. “You bastards!” he screamed holding the limp form to his chest. “You fucking bastards!”

“He attacked first.” One of the gunmen snarled.

“He was protecting me!” Travis shouted back.

“Come with us now.” Wingu Kanzu’s voice was quiet but authoritative and Travis could feel an imperative command pulling at his mind, but the grief and anger that gripped him shut out any intrusion more completely than any mind shield. He only had one thought on his mind now and it overrode anything Wingu Kanzu could throw at him. “Fuck you!” he shouted at his attackers and he sprang for the balcony with the single intent of ending this miserable existence he had fallen into. He had covered about half the distance before he felt a weight strike his back
and he was knocked to the floor. He rolled to one side and was immediately set on by two of the gunmen, who dragged him up, still kicking and cursing loudly.

Wingu Kanzu landed him a stinging blow across the face and he tasted blood. “Your usefulness may be over sooner than expected.” he sneered. “And maybe even sooner if you continue to resist.”

Travis continued to kick and scream impotently until a second blow made his head reel. If these bastards wanted him, then fine. But he’d be damned if he was going to co-operate. He let his body become a dead weight to make them drag him every step of the way. They had just made into the corridor and his apartment door had closed when a shout went up.

“Travis Fletcher, drop to the floor! The rest of you, remain still!”

Travis felt the captors arms release him as their weapons came up looking for targets. Some metres away in each direction, six City Guards blocked the kidnappers’ exits
in each direction
. Arranged in pairs, one standing with a weapon and a second kneeling in front, apparently unarmed but with a look of intense concentration on his or her face. The gunmen needed no prompting and immediately opened fire in both directions. The corridor came alive with loud cracks as lurid green beams split the air like lightning bolts which were reflected in the smooth blue glass walls, but this time their attack was blocked by an invisible shield a few inches from their targets. They fired again, still no effect, but the look of intense effort was etched on each of the kneeling guards. Belatedly Travis got the hint that this was a dangerous place to be and fell to the floor. As he landed, the City Guards returned fire. The pure white Energy pulses from the City Guard’s weapons crackled over Travis’ head, killing all three remaining gunmen.

The smell of burnt flesh and tang of ozone hung in the air as Wingu Kanzu looked round at the bodies and dragged Travis to his feet. It was obvious that he was required alive but he would not surrender so easily. He grabbed Travis by his throat and dragged him up in front of himself as a shield.

As he was being pulled upright, something pricked the back of his mind and he made a passible version of a movement that he had learned in the Gaming Centre on the ship.
Ha iik' tunich.
He heard in his head. Air, water, stone. He flowed like water out of his attacker’s grip and away from danger. The move was not pretty or much like water but it worked. Now for the stone, but this was purely Earth born as the red curtain of rage descended over Travis’ eyes. He took hold of Wingu Kanzu’s clothing, about where his lapels should be, and brought his knee up into the dark alien’s groin, who fell forward with a surprised grunt, his eyes wide with pain. Travis then applied a Glasgow Kiss to the dark man’s nose with more force than he thought possible. “That’s for my friend, you shit head.” Blood splashed across Wingu Kanzu’s face from his mashed nose. Travis let his victim go and he collapsed to the floor, but Travis wasn’t finished yet. “Die slowly and horribly in Hell, you bastard.” Just for good measure Travis kicked the prostrate form in the head and body repeatedly. “And that’s for lying to me.” The rescuing troops did not seem in too much of a hurry to rescue the traitor from the beating being metered out.

Across in the Mukhapu
ṭ
a section of the City, Sundaravāda Ci
ṭṭ
e was surprised and perturbed to find six City Guards at her door.

“My apologies,” the leader began, bowing in recognition of the
Ts’ats’aak’s
status, “I am Squad Leader Huli Līpi
ṅ
g and you must come with us.” he was a young and handsome male and, like the rest of the squad, a descendent of Xi Scopii A. His brows knitted together with concern and she saw that the rest of the squad were fingering their weapons nervously.

“May I ask why?” she tried to keep her voice calm, but she had a feeling of foreboding crawling over the back of her head.

“May I come in?” he asked. She nodded and moved back to let him across the threshold. He motioned the rest of the squad to remain in the corridor. As the door slid shut, she saw
them
taking defensive positions with the one kneeling and the partner standing behind. The squad leader’s partner also stayed outside to help the others.

“What is all this about?” Sundaravāda Ci
ṭṭ
e rephrased her question.

“I do not know the full details
Ts’ats’aak,
but there has been a kidnap attempt on The Original, Travis Fletcher.”

Sundaravāda Ci
ṭṭ
e’s hands went to her mouth as she gasped. Mentally she checked herself and regained her calm quickly, but the obvious questions jumped to the forefront of her brain and were picked up by the Squad Leader.

“I do not know the full details.” he repeated and bowed apologetically but Sundaravāda Ci
ṭṭ
e waved him on impatiently. She wanted what he knew rather than protocol. “The O
riginal is safe and unharmed,”
he assured her, “but the young
Nuuktak
assigned to him was killed trying to defend him, as were most of the kidnappers. The
Council believes you to be in danger too, so we have been sent to escort you to the Central Pyramid.” he paused as his eyes glazed over for a moment as he received an update. “The Original is safe but mentally distraught and requires your attention.” he added.

“Of course.” Sundaravāda Ci
ṭṭ
e struggled to keep an outward veneer of calm while her mind heaved in fear. Kidnap and murder; two words that were almost unheard of, and all within one day of Travis Fletcher arriving. Maybe Wingu Kanzu is more dangerous than she thought. Mentally she reprimanded herself for being a rash old woman but if she had not gone to The Council, Travis Fletcher could be dead now and the hope of the Xi Scorpii race with him. She could not even guess at Wingu Kanzu’s motives.

Crime was rare in The City, the Code of Honour saw to that, but the City Guard was always there to intervene if necessary. Always working in pairs: one skilled in picking out thought patterns, diffusing situations and creating energy shields, the other, a skilled marksman. For more volatile situations, one or two squads of six were despatched. Normally each squad was made up of descendants of the area they patrolled, except for the Central Zone which were always mixed and made up of the best from the other zones.

In the basement of the tower the sniper had secreted himself behind a glass pillar. On impulse he had followed the warriors’ vehicle into the underground garage and it was shortly afterwards that he received a message from the traitor. It was short and the sender was disorientated and in a great deal of pain when he sent it. The sniper had tried to verify the orders from his commander, but he was no longer there, nor was anyone else in the infiltration team. So, they had been discovered and it was likely that he was the only one left. So be it.