Broken Glass (Glass Complex Book 1) (5 page)

Steg said, “I think I recognize him, but I have never seen him away from the Glass Complex.”

Homeworld Acolytes maintained the Glass Complex, a massive computer installation hidden far below Castlehome. They programmed, repaired and defended the Complex, the functions of which were seldom mentioned or disclosed. The data they stored and managed was sourced from every known world, human and alien. The accumulation was immense; it had been gathered over centuries and added to whenever a starship landed or a data glass arrived from remote sources. The Acolytes were linked to the Complex; they were its high priests and hand servants, interpreters and communicants, locked, human mind to artificial intelligence, in surgical servitude. The Glass Complex knew and read the thoughts of the Acolytes and they in turn read the depths of data held in the storage glasses and saw the patterns and movements in the data.

Thomas examined the body of the unconscious Acolyte and concluded that all they effectively could do was to apply salve, cover the burns and make him comfortable. Their basic first aid was inadequate to cope with the extent and severity of the burns.

A movement from the Acolyte startled them both, the painkiller should have knocked him out for hours.

“Please—maximum stimulants—I must—remain conscious for as long as possible.” The voice was hesitant, very soft, and yet had a note of authority that Thomas could not ignore. “Do it—now.”

“The reaction will kill you,” warned Thomas.

“Do it. Now.” His eyes closed. Steg felt a wash of pain mixed with forceful determination.

An instruction from an Acolyte carried exceptional force, the equivalent of a military command which Thomas could not refuse to obey. He searched in the first aid kit and found the necessary capsule and applied its contents via the injector. After a few moments the Acolyte opened his eyes, red rimmed and blood flecked. He gradually focused on Steg.

“Aaah.” The sound was an exhalation of pain and achievement. “Steg de Coeur. The program was correct.” His eyes closed for a moment as he gathered his strength. They opened again. Steg could discern the Acolyte’s iron control refusing and rejecting pain. “Steg de Coeur. I am carrying documents—identification papers—establishing a new identity for you. No—you must listen.” Steg had turned his head towards Thomas, and the Acolyte grabbed him by the arm. The powerful grip was almost painful.

“The invaders have established—a firm foothold in Castlehome, using Lady Gaetja as their puppet. They bribed the—stupid woman, promising power for her infant son. They used their star ships to destroy the Castle’s heavy defenses. To ensure she—her son can rule—uncontested—they have carried out mass executions. I am sorry—your immediate family—all members—are dead. You are now in line—after your cousins Rakyd and Taroc—who so far have managed to avoid capture—to take the title of true Earl—and we must protect—”

The voice faded and after a brief pause, began again. This time the voice was stronger, aided by a source that Steg could feel although he could not identify it. The Acolyte’s grip on Steg’s arm did not loosen.

“The Imperial invaders are in control of Castlehome and of the Castle. However, they gained access only to limited and remote units of the Glass Complex. We—” His body shook with a spasm of pain. “The Acolytes performed a rather crude lobotomy and separated a small fraction—less than five percent—of the Glass Complex, which is now in the control of the Imperials. They do not realize—they do not understand the true functions of the Complex. We are re-building and extending—it will take time—we will protect the rightful heirs of Homeworld. Steg de Coeur—you must leave—go offworld.” The voice stopped and a wave of pain shook Steg with its intensity. The Acolyte’s body stilled.

Then the voice continued; it sounded hollow, almost metallic. It had changed in timbre and intensity. “—offworld. That way you will be safe from this murderous campaign against surviving members of the Earl’s family. The Complex will guide you and advise when you can return with safety. Listen to me.”

The Acolyte’s eyes were fixed, unseeing. He was no longer alive although somehow he was continuing to speak. He still held Steg’s arm in a firm, unrelenting grip. Alarmed, Steg looked to Thomas for guidance; however, he was equally at a loss, perplexed by the continuing speech from the now apparently lifeless Acolyte.

“Yes, Steg de Coeur. You are correct. This servant of the mind has succumbed to his wounds, he was beyond further care or treatment. Listen carefully. You must leave Homeworld. The body has a package of papers. Take them, study them with care. Your companion must aid your escape. Arrangements have been made with a Rimerian star ship, a freighter called
Well Drinker
, which will lift off once you are aboard. Follow the instructions. You must ensure the survival of the House de Coeur.”

“When will I be able to return?”

“You will know. If necessary, we will send you a message. We must re-build. Our primary task is to protect House de Coeur. We failed to detect... We must not fail again. This body is dropping out of circuit. Look for the package. Take it. Acknowledge.” The voice was fading again.

Steg searched the Acolyte’s body. “Yes, I found the package—I have it.” The Acolyte’s body fell back. The grip on Steg’s arm relaxed.

“Well,” he managed to utter. “It worsens, Thomas. My family—all murdered by the Imperials. With the help of that traitorous woman.” He stood. “I swear I will avenge these murders.” His voice choked and he hung his head in silent mourning.

******

Chapter 4

“Take care, my lord.”

Steg looked startled for a moment and then nodded his understanding and acquiescence to both the caution and the title.

“Yes, Thomas. Now we need to see what instructions the Complex has provided.” He carefully unwrapped the package and examined the contents, handing each page to his companion when he finished reading it. The Acolytes had provided very detailed instructions for his offworld travels, which Steg memorized. Each page flaked into irrecoverable ash fragments after a few short minutes of exposure.

“These I cannot share,” Steg cautioned, indicating a residual bundle of pages that were quickly flaking into ash. “The Acolytes are very cautious—and concerned. And they enclosed identity papers, credit, cash for me, and papers for you—here, take yours. “

“So, Thomas,” he continued, after he watched the last page flake away. “Off planet I must go. Rather a scattering of the remaining members of the family—few as they are. Will I ever return, I wonder?”

“You will return, my lord.”

“No more titles, Thomas. Now, as these papers indicate, I’m the son of a Phoebean merchant, and we must keep in character. Meet Robert of Ware, a good name for a merchant’s son, don’t you think?” His forced levity was a barrier against the dark clouds of sorrow and loss that threatened to rush in and absorb him.

“But my lord—” Thomas paused at Steg’s frown. “Steg—you are to travel offworld to an Imperial planet. And then what? It sounds like madness to me.”

Steg didn’t elaborate on the detailed instructions that he had received. “Madness? Perhaps. But would you expect to find a fugitive from the Empire hiding on one of its planets?” He did not mention that the plan was for him to purchase an officer’s commission in the Imperial Fleet. “No, it has a daring that bodes well, especially if plans for others of my family are as bold. I know, I’m one of the decoys, Thomas, and I have to avoid the Imperial net. Come on, time is running against us and we still need to reach Castlehome. I have to board that freighter.”

They wrapped the body of the Acolyte in his robe and gently laid him to rest in a shallow grave on the riverbank. Then they replaced the disturbed grass in an attempt to hide the grave from any curious passerby. The body with its laser burns, if discovered, would create excitement and attract the attention of the Imperials. Thomas stood with Steg at the head of the grave and they both gave silent homage to the Acolyte.

Thomas kept the throttle pushed forward and the tractor and trailer trundled along at maximum speed. While reaching their destination as quickly as possible was imperative, they were restricted by the speed of their farm vehicle. Eventually their small road joined another, and on this larger highway they joined a steady stream of travelers and vehicles heading in the same direction. They were well along the road and much closer to Castlehome when they next encountered Imperial forces.

The flow of travelers slowed and then ground to a halt, forming a queue that was constrained by a checkpoint some half-kay ahead. Steg watched the process as the squad of Imperials carried out thorough searches and interrogated travelers in depth. He estimated it would be almost thirty minutes before they reached the barrier formed by the small Imperial force. After a few minutes, Thomas walked back to some recent arrivals, groups of farmers and traders who had joined the growing queue behind them. After a short discussion, some of the men jumped down from their vehicles and moved quickly in different directions; two headed back along the road while the remainder moved off the road into the forest. Thomas returned to claim his driving seat.

“All Homeworld Militia. Armed only with light weapons. I asked two to head back, to stop and divert traffic for the rest of the day,” he advised. “And the others are going to circle around, they will take out the supporting armor.” He indicated the weapon emplacement a hundred yards or so on the other side of the checkpoint. “The Imperials have just three men in support there. That’s not much insurance for them and their checkpoint. As far as we can determine, they didn’t place a guard on their flyer.”

A series of hand signals flowed up and down the queue, as they moved even more slowly towards the Imperial officers and their checkpoint. As time passed, Steg felt the tension increase. No one, farmer or trader, had arrived from the direction of Castlehome and Steg surmised the Imperial forces were restricting the movement of Homeworlders out of Castlehome, probably to prevent fugitives escaping to the country.

They moved slowly towards the checkpoint and he was able to observe the process more closely. The senior Imperial officer, apparently a more experienced captain, was directing the search and examination of each vehicle. He had soldiers stationed on either side of the road to search the vehicles. Four stood on the left, closer to the forest. On the right side he had positioned another four with a junior
Imperial
lieutenant. The captain stood in the middle of the road, flanked by two soldiers, while two unarmed Homeworld Guards stood behind him. A further three soldiers assisted the search of each vehicle. Off to the side of the road there was a growing mound of confiscated items, mainly weapons, reluctantly given up by their owners. Two covered bodies lay on the bank above the road; they were Homeworlders killed by the Imperial soldiers.

Steg noticed subtle hand signals from the two Homeworld Guards and he turned to Thomas.

“Did you get that?”

“Yes. I know them both—South Guards. Professionals. A corporal and a sergeant. They saw my signals. I took a risk but I had to determine their loyalty. The Imperials brought them along apparently to lend legitimacy to their activities, and also to check identities of any suspects. They—the Imperials—are searching for contraband, mainly weapons, but more importantly for outlaws—that is how they are referring to the Earl’s men and members of the Earl’s family. Their emphasis is on capturing members of the Earl’s family.”

“Will they help us?”

“Oh yes, they’ll help. They’ve lost face with this invasion, and now need to redeem themselves. I told them the trailer is booby-trapped. When our turn comes, as soon as the Imperials begin to search, that will be the signal. After that—we’ll see,” cautioned Thomas.

Eventually they reached the checkpoint. The Imperial captain seemed to notice neither that the flow of travelers had ceased, nor that the travelers remaining behind Thomas and Steg had moved very slowly, opening a substantial gap between them and the cheese-laden trailer.

At the curt command from the Imperial captain, Steg and Thomas
, without protest,
both climbed down from the tractor unit.

“Stand here.”

“What is this—?” the query was unfinished as the Imperial officer motioned savagely at Thomas.

“No talking. Empty out your pockets, drop all knives and other weapons.” He watched as both Steg and Thomas placed the contents of their pockets on the ground. “Throw those weapons over there,” he directed. Then he gestured to the waiting soldiers. “Search that trailer—check everything.”

The soldiers on either side of the road moved to the trailer, to start their search. As they moved close to the trailer, Thomas thumbed the small imperfections in his belt, the disguised triggers for the detonators on the wagon. The HEx blew with devastating force. The side edges of the trailer exploded in shrapnel, and the spread of death reached the eight Imperial soldiers and the young officer. Thomas threw himself at the Imperial captain, and brought the man to his knees with a savage blow. He disarmed the semi-conscious man, taking his stunner for his own use. Steg had moved towards the two Imperial soldiers; however, the South Guards had already overpowered them and they were both unconscious. He looked towards the gun emplacement and saw the final action as the Homeworlders dealt with that small Imperial force.

The swiftness of the merciless attack completely overwhelmed the small Imperial force and left only three survivors, the captain and two soldiers. Thomas securely bound the arms of their captives, while the other men checked each dead Imperial soldier, moving the bodies to the edge of the forest. The travelers queued behind Thomas and Steg had melted away, their plans to travel to Castlehome suspended for the next day or two. The Homeworld combatants, both Castlehome and Militia, gathered finally at the front of the ruined trailer and tractor unit. The Imperial captain was now conscious.