The Sword and the Plough (31 page)

It was an hour past dawn. They were seated
again round Hakim’s table going over their plans. Hakim had been
gone two hours already. It was his job to rally the farmers. He
carried detailed plans from Earth’s admiralty on how to convert the
humble plough into a weapon of war. It was going to be a busy
day.

“So, this is the front gate here!” Captain De
Vries placed a finger on the plan Caroline had sketched of Fort
Vegar.

The captain turned the paper round to face
him. Lars and Lieutenant York twisted their heads to see. The plan
showed the ramparts, the gates, and the tall tower at the fort’s
centre – the
keep.
The keep stood almost twice as high as the main ramparts,
its walls twice as thick, the defenders last hope if the outer
ramparts were breached. And in the dungeons beneath it, the
Trionian hostages.

“
Now, we’ve got to cross open ground
here
,” the captain’s
index finger traced a path across the page “until we can reach the
keep and the entrance down to the cells –
here
.”

His finger tapped the paper thoughtfully
for a second. “Hmm,” he muttered, frowning hard. “You’re sure
there’s no other way in?” he asked. “I mean, the
front
gate? It’s an awful
cheek.”

Caroline shook her head. “Not unless you want
to come in by the postern gate?”

“
That’s the little gate in the back wall
you were telling us about, the one that leads into a
gully.”

Caroline nodded. “Well, more a depression
really, but it will offer a bit of cover.”

The captain shook his head. “Hmm, no – I
don’t want to draw their attention to the postern gate too soon.
That’s our way out.” His frown deepened. “But is there nothing
else, a door maybe, a window even?”

Caroline smiled indulgently. “Johnny, I
know the fort like the back of my own hand. Remember, my father is
–
was,”
she
corrected, “the governor here. I’m sorry, but there are only two
ways in and out, the front gate and the postern gate.”

The captain sighed. “Okay, it seems like
we’ve got no other choice. We’ve got to keep the postern gate as
our escape route.” He glanced round at the others. “The front gate
it is then.”

He leaned back in his chair and fanned his
face with Caroline’s plan of the fort. “Damn, is it always this hot
here?” he asked, directing his question at Lars.

Lars grinned. “It will get hotter,” he
said.

The captain laughed. “Yeah? Well that’s nice
to know.”

He got to his feet and went over to the
window. Caroline and the lieutenant went over the plan again;
Caroline adding an extra detail or two as she remembered them.

The captain studied the landscape outside the
window.

“This black rock planet of yours sort of
grows on you after a while, doesn’t it?” he murmured to no one in
particular.

Lars came over and stood beside him. “It’s in
your blood when you’re born here,” he said. “But it’s nice to hear
an outsider say he feels something too.”

“
It’s the colours, I guess,” the captain
explained. “They appear startling at first, they’re so bright –
compared to Earth, I mean. But after a while, as you get used to
it, the contrasts become rather attractive; the soil is so black,
the greens greener, the sky bluer. I guess it’s those twin suns of
yours. They make everything look so vibrant…so much more alive…” He
broke off abruptly and laughed. “Ah, just listen to me. I didn’t
mean to get so carried away.”

“
Don’t apologise, please,” Lars said
quietly. “I’ve never heard it said better.”

The captain smiled. “Does that make me an
honorary Trionian?”

“It sure does,” Lars replied with a grin.
“And who knows, we might even make an ‘outworlder’ of you one
day.”

“What about you, Cheryl?” Captain Johnny
asked. “Is this place growing on you, too?”

“
What?” The lieutenant looked up from the
plan. “Oh, I haven’t had time to think about it.” She gave a shrug.
“I don’t know – yeah possibly.”

* * *

Hakim returned late in the afternoon. His
face was dripping with sweat and his movements slow as he climbed
down stiffly from his plough.

“Well?” Lars brows arched in question.

Hakim shook his head. “I need a drink first,”
he croaked.

He dusted off his field pants with his coolie
hat and sat down wearily at the table. His white field clothes from
the morning were now a mottled grey and saturated with sweat.

The others stood round the table, expectant
looks on their faces.

The glass of ice-cold water the lieutenant
poured him disappeared in a few short gulps – a second likewise.
The third he sipped more slowly.

After a moment or two, the Trionian leaned
back in his chair and glanced round at the four intent faces
looking down at him. He sighed, picked up the glass again and took
another mouthful.

“Hakim!” Caroline spoke for them all. “Don’t
you dare keep us in suspense any longer.”

The Trionian saw their mood and realised
it was not the occasion for humour.

“
Okay, okay!” he said beaming and lifting
his hands in surrender. “You’ll get your farmer army. They’ve been
pushed around for long enough, so they’re spoiling for a fight, and
you lot showed them how to start one.”

Five excited faces grinned at one
another.

“The word’s gone out,” Hakim continued. “By
tomorrow night, I doubt there’ll be a regular plough anywhere on
the planet.”

Captain Johnny grabbed his hand and shook it
vigorously. “Well done, old man,” he said. “Well done.”

“You’re a real gem, Hakim,” Caroline added,
bending down to kiss him on the cheek.

The Trionian grinned up at Lars. “I ain’t
denying it,” he murmured happily.

“Did you find out who’s in charge of the
Megran forces?” the lieutenant asked quietly.

Hakim nodded. “Yeah, I did. Ah, a major –
no, a general somebody or other…”

“
His name, Hakim – his name!” the
lieutenant insisted.

“
General… General…” His brows knitted.
“What was it? I did hear. General… General
York.
That’s right,
General
York
. How’s that for
memory?”

For a second or two, the curly headed
Trionian did not understand the sudden silence in the room.

* * *

The boy was coming over. Commander Usha Sinha
blew a strand of raven hair from her face and swept it back behind
a small brown ear. She was wearing a ruby topped gold stud.

“Ma’am?” The boy was standing at attention
beside her bridge chair.

“Yes Riddick?”

“
I’ve been running sensor scans on our
projected course every ten minutes as you instructed ma’am – and,”
he hesitated slightly. “I think there’s something out there, in The
Jupiter Trojans.”

Usha was instantly alert. “Hostiles do you
mean, Riddick? Do you suspect an ambush?”

“Yes ma’am.”

“How far?”

“Some ways yet, ma’am.”

The commander dipped her head in
acknowledgement. She knew her crew well. The boy had passed out top
of his course. He had been an A grade student all through his time
at the Academy.

She pressed the speaker switch on the bridge
chair arm.

“All ships. This is Commander Sinha. Stand-by
to go to hostile alert.”

She turned back to the boy. “Right Riddick,
what co-ordinates do we have?”

He gave an uncertain smile. “None as yet,
ma’am.”

“What?” she huffed. Several of the bridge
crew glanced up. “What are you thinking? You want me to put six
ships on hostile alert. If we divert power to shields and decoy
transmissions, we’ll reduce our speed to a crawl.”

The boy studied the floor. His cheeks flushed
pink.

Usha’s voice softened. “Come on son, I’m not
going to bite your head off.”

The boy took a deep breath. “Something
doesn’t add up, ma’am, at least not to me. There are areas in the
Trojans that don’t seem clear enough – as if our scanners are being
made to see something other than they’re supposed to… I can…” His
voice faltered. “I can feel it.”

“
Feel it?”
The entire bridge crew was aware of them
now. “Damn it, Riddick. You’re working with the most up-to-date
equipment in the queen’s space force and you have the nerve to tell
me that you
feel
it?”

The boy looked suddenly tired. His pink flush
had deepened to a cherry red. Tears of embarrassment were welling
in his eyes. Then his chin lifted and for one brief instant, his
gaze became defiant.

“
Yes ma’am. But I know they’re out there.
It doesn’t matter what the scanner says, I just
know
it.”

“
Damn it!” The commander’s fingers beat a
sharp tattoo on the bridge chair arm. “We’re on a wartime mission.
We’re fast and hard hitting, it would take a battleship to stop us,
and yet you want us to crawl along like lame ducks, because you
–
feel it
?”

The boy said nothing, but his shoulders
sagged and his eyes sought the floor once more.

Usha Sinha looked past the boy into the
blackness that was space. From her chair, she could see the faint
radiance of a million stars, the light from some far older than
humankind itself. What she could not see the ship’s scanners saw
for her.

She did not understand what the boy saw,
nor was there any way she could verify what he felt. Instead, she
remembered the faces of her children, saw their dark eyes gleaming,
saw her husband’s trusting smile…

“Well done, Riddick,” she whispered to the
boy still frozen in his stooped stance. “I believe you. We will go
to hostile alert and commence concealment and shielding
procedures.”

Her small brown finger pressed the speaker
switch on the bridge chair arm.

“
All ships. All ships. This is Commander
Sinha. Go to
hostile
alert.
I repeat.
Go to hostile
alert
.”

* * *

“Commander?”

Commander Riddick opened his eyes. “Yes,
Number One?”

He had dozed off in his bridge chair, but was
instantly awake.

“Sensor scans coming in, sir.”

“And?”

“Nothing out there yet, sir.”

The commander gave a nod. “Very good,
Number One – thank you. Oh, and by the way…”

“Yes sir?”

“
Increase the scan rate to five minute
intervals, and send a signal to all captains – maintain sensor
deflectors and decoy transmissions operating until further
notice.”

Gregor Lipinski grinned at his chief. “The
longer we stay out of sight the better, eh sir?”

“Indeed!” his commander acknowledged.

Commander Riddick closed his eyes, but did
not doze again. His mind was jumping wildly from thought to
thought. Was there anything he had overlooked?

“How much farther is it?” Captain De Vries
asked, wiping the beads of sweat from his brow.

It was just after dawn, but the heat was
already on the rise. The black lava gravel road stretched ahead of
them, a straight black stripe between lush fields of green.

They were walking in pairs, prisoners in
front and guards behind, along the road leading to Fort Vegar.
Caroline and Lars were clad in dirt grey field worker’s attire;
Lieutenant York and Captain De Vries were in the queen’s red, their
comb morions gleaming, reflecting the early morning rays of Trion’s
twin suns.

Lars turned round. “You getting sore feet
already, Johnny?” he queried with a grin. “I thought the queen’s
soldiers were supposed to be good at marching.”

Caroline laughed. “Don’t pay him any
attention, Johnny. It’s not that far now, another kilometre or so.
We should see the fort over the next rise. With a bit of luck we’ll
catch them still in bed.”

“Thank the stars,” the captain muttered.
These uniforms weren’t made for this climate.” He snapped a
command. “Okay, let’s make it good for the last kilometre.”

The Trionians played their part and
slouched along, backs bent, eyes downcast. The two queen’s officers
stiffened their step, their heads held high, their light-bolt
rifles shouldered.

Hakim and another farmer had brought them as
close as they dared by plough. There had been no other traffic on
the road and no one had seen the subdued farewell of new friends
and old. ‘We won’t let you down’, was the last thing Hakim had said
before they parted.

“Johnny?” The lieutenant had suddenly stopped
a few paces back behind the others. “Can I speak with you a
moment?”

She was staring out across the green fields,
her eyes troubled.

“Come on, Cheryl, I can’t leave the
prisoners,” the captain joked. “Who knows what the Trionian’s will
get up to if I relax my guard.”

“Johnny, it’s important.” Cheryl York’s voice
was edgy.

“
Very well,” he said. “Prisoners
halt
!”

He turned on his heel and dropped back beside
the lieutenant.

“Right Cheryl, what is it?”

“Johnny, I’m worried. I should never have
come on this mission. I’m putting you all at risk.”

Her military bearing had slumped and her eyes
were moist.

The captain put out a hand and touched her
arm. “Oh come on, Cheryl, we went through all this last night. You
weren’t to know he’d be here on Trion. He could just as likely been
on any of the other conquered planets.”