Empyrion II: The Siege of Dome (35 page)

So he sat and fumed, furiously trying to determine why he felt the way he did, and how to put it into words. The effort came to nothing. And by the time the briefing was over, Treet was no nearer an answer.

“It is a good plan,” Tvrdy said as the others trooped from the room. “We should all be united in its support.”

“I know how you feel, Tvrdy. I'm sorry. I can't tell you why, but I know this is wrong. It won't solve anything.”

Tvrdy appeared about to object, but changed his mind. “You will remain here with Ernina. The raid will take place as planned.”

“Fine.” Treet rose stiffly and stumped from the room.

In darkness, he walked across the bare compound toward the building where he had his room. As he was about to enter, he saw a light shining from the low semiruined structure Ernina had commandeered for a medical center, and where she planned to begin treating the Dhogs for parasites and toxicity as soon as she could get her hands on a few basic supplies.

Treet moved toward the light and entered the building to find the physician busily arranging large floppy mats on the floor by the light of a single lamp whose dirty flame produced more smoke than illumination. The smoke stank.

“The briefing is over?” She watched him with concern in her sharp green eyes.

“It's over.”

Ernina laid the mat down and indicated for Treet to take a seat. He dropped onto a mat and leaned on his elbow. “You look terrible,” she observed.

“I feel terrible.”

“Perhaps you are not recovered fully from our escape. You were very weak. I feared you would not make it.”

“It isn't that. It's the raid.”

“Oh? You are not happy about the decision?”

“It's wrong. I don't know why, but it is.”

The physician regarded Treet for a few moments. “I agree.”

“You do?”

“That's why I did not come tonight. I will not come to any more briefings—I have no time for planning death.”

“Even if it's an insane tyrant like Jamrog?”

She frowned. “I have enough to do trying to keep people alive.”

“I tried to convince them to abandon the idea. I tried—” He looked at the physician's kind face earnestly. “But I don't have the words. I don't know what to say to them. Their reasons all make perfect sense. Kill Jamrog and the Purge will end. The insanity will stop. Thousands of people will be spared. The torture, the death—remove Jamrog and it will stop. And yet ...”

“You don't believe it.”

“No,” answered Treet sadly. “It doesn't matter how I justify it, I can't make myself believe it. At first I thought I was just being squeamish, scared. I don't know—maybe I am just scared. I don't know what I expected.”

“The suffering must stop.”

“Yes, but not this way.”

“There is a better way?”

“No. I don't know. There must be.” Treet lay back and put his hands under his head. “It's just that this is so—so dirty, so cowardly, so cold.”

“All the same, Jamrog does not shrink from it—it put him in power.”

Treet stared at the physician for a moment, then jumped up. “That's it! Ernina, that's it exactly. If we use assassination we're no better than he is. Once we stoop to using our enemy's tactics,
we
become the enemy.”

He reached out and took Ernina by the shoulders. “That's it! That's what's been gnawing at me. I've got to tell Tvrdy.”

“Do you think he will listen?”

Treet stopped. “What he does about it is up to him, I guess. I have to tell him, though.” He took Ernina's hand and gripped it tight. “Thanks for understanding.” Then he was gone.

Treet found Tvrdy in his room, sitting on a cushion poring over the maps of the Old Section. He looked up as Treet came in. “It is amazing how many secrets the Dhogs have guarded over the years. I never guessed there were so many entrances and exits linking the Old Section to the Hages. We will be able to strike in four Hages at once! Think of that. The confusion will be complete.”

“We can't do it,” replied Treet. He sat down beside Tvrdy and tapped the map with a forefinger. “All the planning in the world won't make it right.”

Tvrdy's features clouded with anger. “If you have come here to weary me further with your irrational misgivings, save your breath. I have more important things to do.”

“Tvrdy, listen to me. Please, just listen, and then I'll go. If we assassinate Jamrog, we're no better than he is. Do you see that?”

Tvrdy turned away. “No.”

“By taking our enemy's weapon and using it against him, we become
worse
than he is. Yes, worse; because we have a choice. We don't have to use it. If we do, we become the enemy—we perpetuate the evil. You can't fight evil with evil, Tvrdy. You must see that.”

“Who is to say what is right and what is wrong? In war, good and evil have no meaning. You do what must be done to win. There are no rules. There is only expediency.”

“You don't believe that. You can't.”

“Unless we kill Jamrog first, he will kill us. That is a fact. Where is your good and evil then? If we lose, good will also die.”

“What will that matter if we win and lose ourselves in the process? We will be just as bad as Jamrog.”

Tvrdy stared at Treet, eyes hard, mouth pressed into an implacable line. “You argue nonsense,” he said softly.

“I'm right, and you know it.” Treet stood slowly. “I leave it with you, Tvrdy. I'm not going to say anything more about it.” He walked to the doorway, paused, then added, “Think about what I've said. It's not too late to change the plan.”

Tvrdy shook his head and returned to his maps. “It is too late. To change now would place our Hagemen in danger.”

“Cancel. Call it off.”

“The information has gone out. Using the network again before the raid would jeopardize the entire operation. I won't do that.”

Treet turned and walked back to his room. I've done what I can, he thought. It's out of my hands.

Danelka hurried across the
plaza, skirting the lake. He entered the central tower and smiled to himself. All was in place for the coming raid. He'd seen to the last and most delicate details himself and sent the ready signal. No more communication would take place until after the Trabantonna ... and then? And then there would be no need for stealth.

One more day ... just one more day ...

He dashed across the empty hall. Upon reaching the Director's lift, two figures stepped from a nearby alcove.

“What do you want?” Danelka said. The two men at the lift entrance wore Tanais gold.

“Please, we need your help.” The man on the left stepped close, glancing quickly around to see if they were observed.

“Yes?”

“You must come with us.”

Danelka looked at the men more closely. “Who are you? You're not Tanais.”

The man on the right moved nearer. “There is a problem.”

“What problem?”

“Only you can help.”

“I don't understand. What sort of problem?”

“Security,” answered the first man. He put a hand on Danelka's arm.

The Tanais shook off the stranger's hand. “I'm not going anywhere with you.” He turned back to the lift.

“We have authorization.” The first man raised his voice.

Danelka spun back around. “What sort of authorization?”

The second man pulled a packet from his yos. “Charges have been made.”

“What sort of charges?” Danelka demanded angrily.

“Very serious charges,” said the man with the packet.

“It's probably a mistake,” replied the first. “But you must come and help us straighten it out.”

“I'm not going anywhere until I know what this is all about.” Danelka glared at the two men and crossed his arms across his chest.

“We should go now,” said the second man, the more reasonable of the two.

“What are these charges? If someone has been making accusations against me, I have a right to know what they are.”

“You have been charged with treason,” the first man told him.

Danelka blanched. “Let me see that!”

The man pulled the packed away. “It's probably a mistake,” said the first man. “If you come with us, we can get it cleared up.”

Danelka hesitated. “I'm going to call my Subdirector. He must be notified.”

“It won't take long.”

“Treason ... that's ridiculous.” A sick look skidded across his face.

“A mistake, surely,” said the man on the left. “We will clear it up now, and you can return to your kraam and to your supper.”

The man on the right took Danelka firmly by the arm and pulled him away from the lift. “Let's go quietly. It does not look good for a man of authority to cause trouble.”

“It is a mistake,” said Danelka harshly. “And you will soon regret your part in it, I promise you.”

The interim Director was taken to an interrogation kraam in one of the Hageblocks near the Tanais border with Saecaraz. There he was made to stand before an Invisible who was sitting behind a portable data screen. The Invisible read a long list of charges, then looked up at the prisoner for the first time. “Do you confess to these charges?”

“Lies! All lies!” Danelka shouted. “I confess to nothing. I want to call my Subdirector.”

The Invisible remained silent, but motioned to the two who had brought him in. Danelka resisted and was dragged bodily into the next room, where he was shoved into a large metal chair. His yos was stripped off, and loops of thin wire were fastened around his wrists and ankles and around his neck.

“You can't do this to me!” shouted Danelka. “I am the Tanais Director. I demand a Threl hearing.”

The Invisibles left then, Danelka's angry shouts ringing in the empty room. A few moments later two more Invisibles entered the room. One took his place behind the console which controlled the chair, and the other came to stand before the prisoner. Danelka took one look at the Mors Ultima yos and quailed.

“We know you are in contact with your former Director,” said Mrukk. “I can have the charges against you dropped now if you tell me where he is.”

Danelka glared back at the Mors Ultima commander, but kept his mouth firmly shut.

“He will be caught and executed for the traitor he is.” Mrukk put his face close to his victim's. “But you don't have to share his fate. You can go free. I can arrange it for you to continue as Director. I can even see to it that you are rewarded: ten thousand shares. It's all yours if you speak up now.”

The Tanais Director pro-tem squirmed in the interrogation chair. The wire thongs bit into his flesh at wrists and ankles. “I won't be bought,” he uttered through clenched teeth.

“Too bad,” sighed Mrukk. “Ten thousand shares—a man could do something with ten thousand shares.” He gave a nod to the Invisible behind the console, and the wire thongs jerked tight. Danelka stifled a scream. Sweat beaded up on his forehead and trickled from his armpits.

“Your loyalty is admirable,” continued Mrukk as if nothing had happened. “But do you not have a greater loyalty to the Supreme Director? That's worth thinking about. Shall I leave you to think about it?”

Danelka stared at his blue, swollen hands. His feet felt as if they were about to burst. Sharp needles stabbed his flesh. “I will come back in a few hours to see if you have changed your mind.”

“I won't tell you,” Danelka hissed. “Kill me now.”

“No, not yet,” replied Mrukk, pressing his face close. “Already you ask for death, and we have just begun. It can get much worse. Believe me ... much worse. You'll be amazed to discover how much you can take. I'll be back and we'll talk again.”

“Trabant take you!”

Mrukk strode from the room and heard his victim's screams sharp in the air. There was still much force behind the cries, but a few more hours under the wires would see them weaken.

When Mrukk returned, Danelka was unconscious, his flesh pasty and damp, his breath coming in shallow gasps. The Mors Ultima chief smiled to himself. It was too easy, really. These bloodless wretches had no stamina, no endurance. The first twinge of pain and they crumbled.

“Wake him up,” Mrukk ordered. The Invisible monitoring the pain sensors stepped from behind the console with a probe in his hand. He applied the probe to the side of the victim's neck, and the body jerked spasmodically. Danelka's eyes fluttered open, and he moaned.

“Now then,” said Mrukk, “this can stop at once. Tell me where your master is and what he plans, and I will release you.”

Danelka made no reply. His head rolled limply on his chest. Mrukk leaned forward, grasped a handful of hair, and snapped the head up. He gazed into the clouded eyes.

Taking the probe from the Invisible standing by, Mrukk inserted the probe in the victim's mouth. A strangled scream tore from Danelka's throat; front teeth shattered as rigid jaw muscles clamped tight.

“That's better,” observed Mrukk, peering into his victim's eyes again. The fresh pain had revived Danelka somewhat. “Now then, tell me and this will end. Where is Tvrdy?”

Danelka opened his mouth, hesitated. Mrukk brought the probe close once more. “N-n-o! I—I'll tell you.”

“Tell me then.”

“He is with the Dhogs in the Old Section.”

“We already know that!” shouted Mrukk. “What are his plans?”

Anger shook the young man's frame. “Y-you said ... only ... where he is ... you said—”

“That was before. But you've kept me waiting. I want more. What are his plans?”

“I don't know.”

“You're lying.” Mrukk placed the probe against the soft flesh of the Tanais Subdirector's belly. The man writhed in the chair, cords standing out on his neck, facial muscles etched in a rictus of agony.”

“What are his plans?”

Danelka gasped. “I don't know.”

Mrukk's hand flicked out from under his yos. He held the knife blade before Danelka's horrified face. “His plans?”

Danelka, sweat streaming from his face, shook his head weakly. The blade dropped, and the Subdirector's index finger tumbled onto the floor amidst a spray of blood.

Mrukk raised the stained knife blade again. “You have many other fingers, Hageman. We will try again. What are Tvrdy's plans?”

Danelka grimaced and spat out, “I don't know his plans. He did not tell me.”