Counterattack (2 page)

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Authors: Sigmund Brouwer

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BOOK: Counterattack
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Only I had no idea how she'd gotten control of it.

Or where we were headed.

Or why.

CHAPTER 2

“Ashley,” I whispered to the robot. Somewhere, nearby or far away, my best friend was controlling this robot. “You can see all these soldiers, right?”

It was a dumb question. Of course she could see them. The robot transmitted visuals in four directions through the video lenses perched on top of its body stem. What I was hoping for in Ashley's answer was something that made sense of all the action over the last few minutes.

Especially after endless hours of doing nothing since the arrest except staring at the ceiling and walls of my cell. No one had told me why my father and I were under arrest after our journey from Mars to Earth. No one had even talked to me; the food pushed into my cell came from a surly guard who ignored my questions. And I'd had no idea what had happened to Ashley.

“Yes, I can see the soldiers, Tyce,” she answered through the robot's speaker. “If you want, wave at them and smile. They're not going to hurt you. Soon enough, you'll find out why. I can't say anything more. Not in front of them.”

She'd spoken loud enough that the nearest soldiers could overhear. I gave a weak smile. If they smiled in return, I couldn't tell. Not with the lights of the corridor bouncing off the mirrored visors of their helmets.

“Ashley?” I took comfort from knowing she was somewhere on the other end of the remote X-ray signals that the robot's computer converted to brain-wave signals. I pictured her big grin under the straight, dark hair she kept cut short. At 13, she was a year younger than me. Most of the time she seemed years smarter. Especially in math. “Ashley!”

“Hang on,” she answered. “I've got to concentrate on where we're going. I'm using my memory here, and I saw the map only once.”

I knew exactly what she meant. Robot control took full concentration. Like her, whenever I handled my own robot, my eyes and ears were cut off from all sight and sound. That allowed me to pay full attention to the information delivered to me from the robot's eyes and ears. It would be no different for Ashley, wherever she was. She'd probably be wearing earplugs and some kind of blindfold. It meant that she wouldn't be able to read a map on her end and still maintain control of the robot here.

“If it helps,” I said, “it looks like the corridor ends ahead about 25 feet.”

“Thanks.” The robot continued its steady pace. “I do see it. If I remember, I need to turn left.”

Thirty seconds later the robot turned to follow the left branch of the corridor.

The scenery didn't change much. Every 10 feet there was another closed door on each side. The soldiers kept following, their neuron rifles still aimed at my head.

I could hear Ashley count aloud through the robot's voice. “One … two … three … four … five …”

I realized she was counting doors.

At the 10th door, Ashley stopped and spun the robot's wheels so the robot was facing the door. With me still in its arms.

“Grab the handle,” Ashley instructed. “I'd use the robot hands, but I'm afraid of dropping you.”

“Sure.” I reached out for the handle. The robot held me steady. With the strength in its titanium arms, it could have effortlessly held a person five times my weight.

“Open the door,” Ashley directed me. “It should be unlocked.”

She was right. The door opened easily. The robot rolled through.

I gasped as the door shut behind us on its automatic hinges.

It was another prison cell. With two men sitting on the bunk. One man held a knife to the other's throat.

The man being held captive I didn't recognize. Wearing an outfit that looked like a one-piece cape, he was elderly and very small. His hair was white, and the wrinkles on his face were deep enough to hold water if he stepped outside in a rainstorm. A slightly worried frown rearranged those wrinkles.

The man holding the knife I did recognize. He was much younger, with square shoulders, a square face, and hair the same color of blond as mine. A big man, wearing a regulation military jumpsuit—like the ones I'd been given during the quarantine process.

This man shifted slightly where he sat on the edge of the bunk, without moving the knife from the older man's throat. He had the older man carefully positioned as a shield, making it risky for the guards to try a neuron shot.

“Hello, Tyce,” this man said calmly.

I knew the man holding the knife very well. I had just spent eight months in space with him. “Hello, Dad,” I said, cradled helplessly as I was in the robot's arms. “How are you?”

CHAPTER 3

“As a result of this gentleman remaining here with me,” Dad said, “the Combat Force commander at this base has agreed to my conditions. Which includes freedom for you and Ashley.”

Combat Force. The military arm of the World United Federation.

“He's going to remain with you?” I asked.

The old man did not react to what Dad said. Just sat there patiently, as if it were a regular happening to have someone hold a knife to his throat.

“Just me and Ashley are going?” I didn't know why we had been arrested. I only knew Ashley had been in another prison cell. Dad must have arranged to get her released first. “But what about—?”

“Me? No, Tyce. Say nothing more.”

By the tone of Dad's voice, I knew I had to obey.

“I wish we could talk freely,” Dad continued, “but I have no doubt that this room is under audio surveillance. So don't say anything unless it is a direct reply to one of my questions. Got that?”

“Yes,” I said, unfair as it seemed. I had plenty of my own questions that I desperately wanted to ask Dad. Why had we been arrested? Who was this man he held hostage? How had Dad been able to get a knife? What were we going to do about the armed soldiers out in the corridor?

“Tyce,” Dad said, “you remember why you and Ashley came back to Earth?”

“Yes.”

“When both of you leave here, you must do it. Even without me. Understand?”

Without him? “Dad, I—”

“Answer me with a yes. You will do it without me. Understand?”

“Yes.”

“As part of my conditions, you and Ashley will each be equipped with money cards. Don't be afraid to spend what you need because the cards have no limit. Get there and complete the mission. Understand?”

“Yes.”

“You have only six days. If you succeed, you can return here for me.”

Succeed at what? And if we don't succeed, what will happen to Dad?

“Now carefully reach into my chest pocket. Take the folded piece of paper there. I've written out all the rest of the things I can't say to you here in this cell.”

From wherever she was, Ashley moved the robot slowly forward and stopped it just in front of my father.

Two days' worth of beard darkened Dad's face. Half circles of exhaustion showed under his eyes.

“Dad, you all right?” I asked.

He nodded briefly, his lips tight.

The top of the paper showed from his chest pocket. In the robot's arms, I leaned forward. As I did, the old man beside Dad grabbed my lower arm. A sudden sharp pain stabbed my skin.

“Hey!” I yelled.

“Let him go,” Dad warned, pressing the knife harder against the old man's throat. I expected to see blood. Instead, I noticed Dad was using the dull side of the knife.

The dull side? It didn't make sense. But I was in no position to comment. Especially with the stabbing pain against the underside of my arm.

“Let him go,” Dad said again, his voice growing more intense.

Weird. Dad's voice was louder as if he was angry, but I knew Dad well enough to know when he truly was mad. Who was he trying to fool?

Finally the old man released my arm.

I looked at my skin and saw blood. How had the old man managed to break skin? So many questions. And none that I could ask.

“Tyce,” Dad ordered, “take the note. Time matters a great deal. When you read it, you'll understand why.”

I ignored the tiny drops of blood on my arm, pulled the paper loose from Dad's chest pocket, and slipped it into my own pocket. The robot backed away, holding me safely.

“I have also arranged for you and Ashley to have a radio linked by satellite to a radio that will be provided to me,” Dad said. “Use it to speak to me only when necessary. Remember, we need to keep our communications to a minimum, because I'm sure we will be monitored. Also remember it's important that you report to me every half hour.” He smiled grimly as he continued. “Without those reports, this gentleman here is in serious trouble.”

The old man's frown deepened.

“You are his lifeline,” Dad explained to my puzzled look. “As long as I know you are safe, he is safe. If they send anyone after you, if they stop you in any way—”

“No need to explain,” the old man interrupted. He hadn't said a word to this point, and the calm deepness of his voice was a surprise. “If the kids get hurt, I get hurt. The Combat Force commander knows this very clearly. All your conditions have been met. But I warn you now—their deaths will be in your hands.”

“If anyone in the Combat Force harms them—,” Dad began.

“It won't be the Force that kills them, you young fool.”

I'd never heard anyone speak to my father this way. More surprisingly, Dad accepted the rebuke. Who was this old man?

“Sending them out into the swamps of the Everglades will kill them as surely as any military command,” the old man went on.

Everglades?

“And furthermore, young man,” he told Dad, “exactly how long do you think you can stay awake?”

Dad didn't answer. At least not to the old man. “Tyce,” Dad replied, “he's right. All I can guarantee you for a head start is the length of time that I can sit here. When I fall asleep …”

He didn't have to finish that thought. I understood. When Dad fell asleep and the knife fell from his hand, he'd no longer have a hostage.

“I won't leave you,” I blurted. “Send Ashley by herself. I'll help you. We can take turns staying awake and keeping him hostage while she—”

“Go,” Dad insisted. “Later, when you read the note, you'll understand.” He gave me a look I couldn't interpret.

“No.”

“You'll have to trust me,” Dad said gently. “I'm your father.”

“No,” I said. “I won't leave you.”

“You have no choice.”

Dad lifted his eyes from mine and stared directly into the front video lens of the robot that held me. “Ashley, take him away.”

The robot began to roll back toward the door, with me still helpless in its arms.

“No!” I shouted at the robot. “Ashley, let me stay!”

My desperate plea did no good.

The last view I had of my father was of him sitting on the bunk. With a solemn expression on his face.

“You need to succeed, Tyce. You have six days. And the countdown begins now.”

CHAPTER 4

With soldiers following, the robot approached the main doors of the Combat Force's prison.

I now knew why they had not fired any shots from their neuron rifles. Dad was protecting me by holding that old man hostage. But only for as long as he could remain awake.

At that instant I hated like I'd never hated before. I hated the fact that I was being carried. I hated the fact that the operation on my spine had left me without the use of my legs. I hated the fact I couldn't get to my feet and charge back to the prison cell. That I couldn't help the father I used to dislike and had only recently come to understand. I couldn't lose him now—especially when he'd also become my friend.

But I was helpless. As the robot rolled forward I didn't even bother pleading with Ashley anymore. A few feet later I heard Mom's voice in my mind.
“Tyce, we just have to trust God. Even when things look bad, he's got everything under control.”
She'd said it before, and she'd been right. But what about this time? Although I, too, had come to believe in and trust God, this situation looked impossible. How was God going to fix this?

Now the doors to the outside loomed in front of me. Despite my anger and fear, I began to feel excitement. Like opening a present on Christmas, except a thousand times stronger.

It had been night when Dad, Ashley, and I and the rest of the crew of the
Moon Racer
had been shuttled from orbit to Earth. We had landed at this military base, and the shuttle had coasted into a large warehouse. On the ground we'd been transferred through a chute from the shuttle into an electric vehicle that took us deeper into the base. Finally we'd reached the prison area after a brief time in quarantine. Not once during the process had I seen anything of the Earth's surface. I had not even gulped one breath of outside air.

And now?

When the doors in front of me opened, I'd be somewhere I had dreamed about for years. Ever since understanding that I was the only person in the entire solar system to be born off the planet Earth.

Yes, I'd be outside, without a space suit. On Earth. Breathing in open air, outside of buildings. For the first time in my life. As the main doors swung open to the outside, I sucked a big lungful of air and held my breath.

The next instant I lost all that air. For what I saw took my breath away.

Blue sky!

Yellow sun!

White clouds!

On Mars, the landscape was a butterscotch-colored sky with a blue sun and orange clouds. I'd only ever read or seen on DVD-gigarom how things looked on Earth. This was far more beautiful than I'd ever imagined.

In that moment, I forgot about my dad. I forgot about the six-day countdown. I forgot about the impossible mission of rescue that Ashley and I faced.

Blue sky!

Yellow sun!

White clouds!

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