Warden: A Novel (13 page)

Barent sat down next to her on the crate and cradled the device in his hands, staring at it.

“It’s a comm unit.”

“The Collective!” Tana said. “They’re using it to find us.”

“It’s not the Collective,” Barent replied calmly. “I’ve already confirmed the source of the signal.”

“Then who the hell is it?”

Barent looked over at Tana and she saw the disbelief on his face.

“It’s the second ship,” Barent said finally. And then his gaze drifted back down to the comm unit.

“The signal…is coming from the
Olin
.”

“What do you mean you can’t
find
them?” Minister Golen thundered.

He looked around and noticed that his outburst had drawn the attention of a few nearby representatives, so he gave General Malves an insincere smile—one purely for the benefit of anyone watching the exchange.

“Come with me,” he directed.

The two men moved out from the great atrium of the General Assembly building—the very seat of power in the Collective. This was the place where all major laws governing the populace originated, or so a small minority of the people believed, anyway. Most correctly understood that Minister Golen and a cadre of elder statesman held the only real power in Le’sant, and that the laws established by that small group were ruthlessly enforced by both the police and the Collective military. The hard truth was that the elected representatives of the Assembly were little more than clawless animals in a zoo, propped up in front of the citizens largely for show.

They did enjoy a tiny shred of authority, as each was empowered to direct minor policy issues—particularly those pertaining to their own districts. But if any of them tried to affect any
real
change, especially larger citywide concerns, they were coerced into compliance with any one of the myriad means available to the minister and his cronies. Some particularly headstrong representatives had even vanished, never to be seen again. Defiance and disappearance had gone hand in hand during Golen’s tenure.

The minister led Malves into an unused office space where they could speak privately—away from watchful eyes—and then Golen pulled the door closed behind them.

“How could they just vanish?” he asked the general.

“According to a survivor from the shootout in the Outland they fled beyond the city walls, out onto the surface.”

“Then they obviously went to the next gate and snuck back in.”

“No, Minister. That’s what our soldiers thought they might try as well. They stationed men at every entrance to the city, but Sergeant Barent and the thief never showed up.”

“How long could they last outside the wall?” Golen asked.

“At this time of year? A few hours, at best. But there is another problem, Minister. One potentially more serious. Some of—”

“I could do with more solutions and less problems,” Golen snapped, and then he rubbed his temples vigorously with both hands, taking a deep breath. “What is it, General?”

“Some of the downtrodden witnessed the fight. And they know it was Barent. They recognized him.”

“Then kill them,” Golen said without hesitation. “It shouldn’t be that hard remove anyone who was there.”

“It’s gone too far for that, Minister. Word has already spread all the way back to the Central District.”

“Bah!” Golen spat, waving one hand off to the side in frustration.

General Malves waited patiently as the minister fell silent; he suspected Golen was scheming up some form of solution.

He was right.

“I have an idea,” Golen said at last. “We can eliminate all of these problems in a single, decisive blow. And ensure that nothing else crops up later from this unfortunate incident to give us trouble.”

“How?” General Malves asked.

“We’ll blame it all on the Wardens. We say that this Barent is an imposter, surgically created by the Wardens to overthrow the rightfully elected government. We can stage the Tomb of the Great Betrayer to look like they desecrated it for the artifacts they needed, and then tell everyone that the Wardens took Barent’s body to pattern their imposter on.”

“The people will never believe it,” Malves said.

“Who guards the tomb?”

“My men do, Minister. You know that.”

Golen smiled. “And who does the
public
think guards the tomb?”

“The Wardens…”

“Yes. The Wardens. The rabble that worship Barent think his body remains under the protection of the Wardens, so who else
but
them could have accomplished this heinous vandalism? And wouldn’t the Wardens have informed the people if something happened to the Great Betrayer’s tomb? Unless, of course, they had something to hide.”

“They will deny it! The Wardens will rally the people around them.”

“Not if they’re already out of the picture,” Golen replied.

Malves took his meaning immediately. “You’re talking about almost a thousand men, Minister. And many of my troops would balk at an assignment to kill the Wardens.”

“If you can’t do it, General, then perhaps you’d like it to be one thousand and
one
?”

Malves didn’t enjoy being threatened, and fought to quell his anger, yet it still found a way into his voice. “No,
Minister
.”

“Don’t let your loyalty waver, Malves. If the people found out about some of the things you’ve done your head would be resting on the ground right next to mine.”

“You think I don’t know that!” the general said forcefully, ignoring his position as Golen’s subordinate.

“Relax, General Malves. Relax. I’m confident that we can handle this all appropriately. How long will it take you to remove the Wardens?”

“Two days, maybe. It’s hard to say. They are scattered throughout the city, and they won’t be easy targets.”

“Just get it done as quickly as possible. And as soon as the last one is dead, we’ll release the propaganda blaming them for everything. We’ll also let the people know that we’ve already punished the Wardens for what they did to their hero.”

“Yes, Minister.”

Malves gazed down at the floor for a moment and then back up at Golen, frowning.

“What is it, General? Please, speak freely.”

“It’s just a shame that we can’t speak with Sergeant Barent…try to work something out with him. Can you imagine?”

Golen grinned. “Have you ever read his treatises, General? Not the ones we manufacture, but the real ones?”

“I have.”

“Then you know exactly how Barent would react to the government we have in place. And you also know that the people would love him for it.”

“I’m afraid I have to agree, Minister. Sergeant Barent would never consent to being governed by the Collective, and the people would undoubtedly support him if he chose to move against us.”

Golen grabbed Malves’ arm lightly and escorted him back toward the door. “Trust me, General, we can make this all go away. Handle the Wardens. And keep troops posted at the city gates for a few more days—just in case Barent is as resilient as the legends claim. After that, no matter how hardy he is—or how good the climate treatment they gave him was—Sergeant Barent will have succumbed to the cold. He is only human, after all.”

“Don’t worry, Minister Golen. I’ll see that everything’s done.”

“Excellent.”

Golen opened the door and they both stepped outside—the sound of dozens of conversations assailing them as a large crowd of representatives strolled through the atrium. “I’ll be in assembly meetings all day, General. I assume that you have no further need of me?”

“No, Minister. I know exactly what needs to be done.”

Golen nodded. “Then please stop by my office tomorrow and let me know how things are proceeding.”

“Of course.”

Malves watched him walk off, blending in with the crush of people moving through the atrium, and then he made his own way toward the exit. He couldn’t recall ever having been issued more distasteful orders—and Golen had given him some appalling tasks to accomplish over the years.

Malves thought to consult the Vade for guidance, but he knew that these were unprecedented times, and unfathomable actions. No one had ever faced a situation like
this
before, and the Vade would hold no answers for him.

No,
General Malves thought, pushing the last of his lingering doubts aside.
Minister Golen is right. The Wardens must die. I just hope that he was right about Sergeant Barent as well.
Because if the Great Betrayer does somehow survive…

I will have to kill him too.

“I don’t understand,” Tana said. “What do you mean, ‘the second ship’? The
Olin
was lost back before you…uh…died.”

“I
mean
that this comm unit is picking up an emergency beacon, and when I sent a confirmation signal it returned it, acknowledging the source. There is no doubt. It’s the
Olin
.”

Tana hopped off the crate and stared down at the device. “After five hundred years? How can that be?”

“I have no idea. But according to the strength indicator, it’s close. Within eighty kilometers is my guess. I think we should go check it out.”

“Are you mad? Eighty kilometers in this climate might as well be in orbit. And wouldn’t that put it out beyond the crater wall? Even with your resistance we’d never make it. It’s suicide.”

“Maybe not,” Barent replied. “Follow me.”

He led Tana over to a large metal door set snugly into one of the stone walls. Its edges were rounded, and it was mounted on three sturdy hinges, anchored deeply into the rock. Tana had noticed the door earlier and guessed it was repurposed from the
Le’sant
, while it was still in its starship configuration. And when she got close enough to actually inspect it, Tana confirmed she was right. It still even had the original deck and room number stamped on it.

A cold chill filtered into the room as Barent yanked the heavy door open, and Tana saw that they were completely surrounded by rock. Off to the right there was a narrow path winding through the high stone walls, covered in fresh snow. And directly across from them, on the other side of the trail, Tana spotted a shallow alcove dug out from the rock face. It looked like an unfinished second room, but there were no doors in place, and the partially hollowed out cave was entirely exposed to the elements. A good deal of snow had built up across the front of it, drifting down from the open sky overhead, but Tana could still make out something partly hidden beyond the uneven white berm.

“What is that?” she asked.

“A snowcraft,” Barent replied. “For travelling outside the city. Surely you’ve seen one before.”

“Never. Like I told you, Barent, we don’t leave Le’sant. Take a good look around and tell me why we would.”

“Well
we
used to. And the ship came equipped with dozens of these—some were even larger. We used them to survey the area around the landing site, even going out beyond the crater itself. But they also came in handy for shuffling equipment around as the prisoners broke the ship apart to build the city. The colonists even used a few to send out search parties to look for the
Olin
, before eventually giving up and declaring it lost.”

“Any we had were probably stripped down for parts or recyclable metals long ago,” Tana said. “Does that one still work?”

“It’s fully functional,” Barent answered. “Take a look beside it.”

Tana raised herself up on her toes to see over the short barrier of snow. “A fusion charger,” she remarked.

“Yes it is. I hooked it up when we first got here, thinking we might need a ride when we went back to the city. But now we can use it to go investigate the signal.”

“I’m still not sure…”

“It will be
fine
,” Barent assured her. “The snowcraft has a sealed canopy, so it won’t be anything like before. You’ll be inside, Tana, safe and warm. I promise.”

“And what about Le’sant?” she asked. “Shouldn’t we be heading back to organize a resistance? Or form some alliances? Something?”

“We should, and we will. But right now it’s just too dangerous. In a few days things will cool off, and then we’ll be able to slip back into the city for short visits—to start building support against the Collective. But we can’t go anywhere near Le’sant right now.”

“All right,” Tana conceded. “And I have to admit, I’m kind of curious about the signal, too. But if it really is the
Olin
, why hasn’t anyone detected the emergency beacon before now? Or why didn’t the First Ones find the ship when they went out searching for it?”

“Those are all good questions that I can’t answer,” Barent said. “So let’s go solve this mystery ourselves. Even taking the time needed to watch out for dangerous crevasses, or deal with any adverse weather, the snowcraft should still have us there in just a few hours.”

Tana glanced over at the vehicle again. “And you’re
sure
it’s safe, Barent? Because the last time I went out there, I almost died.”

He chuckled. “You can stop worrying, I’m sure.”

“All right. And by the way, thanks for dragging me to safety.”

“Don’t mention it.”

They went back inside the hideout to begin gathering up the supplies they’d need for the trip, and Barent put his armor back on as well, grabbing pistol ammo from one of the crates when he was finished. He also picked out four fully charged power units for his plasma rifle, snapping one of them in place to verify that the weapon was functional before sliding it across his back.

“Expecting trouble?” Tana asked him.

“Always. But to be honest, it’s more likely that we’re only going to find wreckage…
maybe
a few large pieces of the ship if it broke apart while entering the atmosphere. If the
Olin
had survived intact, we would have heard from them back in my day, or found the ship during one of the original searches.”

Tana scooped up some nutrient bars and a few softpacks of water, and then reached down to the very bottom of one of the storage crates and pulled out an insulated jacket.

“Now, this, I can use.” Tana smiled.