Rebel's Quest (29 page)

They followed the crowd to a narrow gate where a blinking arch lined the rock wall. This was going to take some engineering, since they depended on Doc’s small pouch of instruments for their continued success.

“Let me go through first, with Sarambol and Mandira.” Kellen squeezed Sarambol’s shoulders. “When I pinch you, throw yourself to the floor and cry out, as if in pain. I’ll tend to you, and in the meantime, Doc will slide the pouch around the arch. I’ll try to reach it, but if I can’t, Mandira and Ayahliss, you have to try.”

The other women nodded, and then they were almost there. Kellen held Sarambol’s shoulders firmly as the crowd pressed against them. Kellen didn’t even attempt to remain standing. Instead, she kept her head down and tugged Sarambol with her, fearful of losing her grip on her. When they were just under the arch, she squeezed Sarambol’s shoulder tight.

To her relief, Sarambol sank to the floor with a cry. “Oh, it hurts! Please, help me. It hurts!” Either Sarambol was a professional actress or the pain was real. Kellen opted for the latter as she flung herself to her knees next to the girl and saw the sweat bead on her upper lip. “Stop, stop!” Kellen called out. “She needs help to get up.”

The crowd kept pushing, trying to get away from the guards. The six guards manning the arch stepped together and formed an effective wall. “Fucking idiots! Halt!” the closest guard yelled. “Get her out of there!”

“I’m trying to!” It wasn’t hard to sound desperate. Kellen kept her eyes on Doc, who stood to her far left, and saw him toss the small, flat pouch through the crack between the metal arch and the rough rock wall. It landed just inside, but Kellen couldn’t reach it.

“Ow! Please, make the pain stop!” Sarambol cried, and at the same time, Mandira knelt next to them, close to the pouch.

“There, there, girl. Here, let’s get you up and out of this bottleneck.” Mandira placed her arm under Sarambol’s and made a sweeping motion with the other one. When she moved, the pouch was gone.

Relieved, Kellen nodded to Mandira and Ayahliss. They half carried, half dragged Sarambol out of the three-meter-long tunnel behind the arch and stumbled into an equally crowded corridor, badly lit by small diode lights.

As Doc joined them, Mandira handed him the pouch. “You better hang on to this, Doc. I have a feeling you’re going to need it.”

They stood in the mayhem consisting of hundreds of Gantharians all trying to come to terms with the fact that they had arrived at Kovos, the notorious, hellish place that from now on was their prison.

*

“Duck!” Andreia tugged at Owena, just before the Onotharian guard behind the human woman swung his weapon at them in outrage. “It wasn’t her fault.” She knew reasoning with him probably wouldn’t work. A pair of young rebels had tried to protect an older man who’d stumbled into the guards when leaving the ship on Vaksses, and now utter mayhem had erupted.

“Back off! Back off!” the guard yelled, and flipped a switch on his rifle, aiming at them.

Andreia grew cold and tugged at Owena, who merely stood still, staring at the line of Onotharians taking up position. “Don’t. Come on!” Andreia hissed. “We can’t afford to cause any trouble. Not yet.”

“Fine.” Owena glanced darkly at the guards who now dragged the older man off to a corner. “They’re going to hurt him.”

“I know.” It sickened Andreia to imagine the cruelty the guards subjected “offenders” like him to. Swallowing against the rising bile, she kept walking through the long corridors leading to the inner sections of the Vaksses asteroid. Once used as a military hospital, it was still a high-tech facility and boasted a clean environment compared to Kovos. Andreia had seen pictures of Kovos and shuddered to think of Kellen and Doc, stuck in such a horrible place.

Owena looked down at the small digital ticket the guards had given them when they disembarked from the transporter. “I think we’re in the right corridor, judging from the sign there.” She pointed at the wall next to a door.

Realizing Owena didn’t read Gantharian or Onotharian, Andreia checked the sign and nodded. “You’re correct. This is our room.” She peered inside. “Ours and almost twenty more individuals’.” Walking inside, they saw cramped bunk beds, narrow tables and stools, and two small cabinets, all in a twenty-five-square-meter room. “Let’s hope the ventilation is working,” Andreia muttered.
And that our neighbors are ready to help when we need it.

As she sat down on one of the lower bunk beds, Owena remained standing, scanning the room with her cool glance. “I assume these bunks will soon be occupied. We better make sure we get this one, closest to the door.”

“Good thinking.” They would need to be able to vacate quickly, in order to set their plan in motion.

More people stumbled inside, some shoved by impatient guards. Unlike Kovos, this prison had guards on the inside patrolling each corridor constantly, and it would be impossible to overpower them.
I’ll have to keep up the faith that the Protector’s plan will work. That, or Onotharat’s only popular person on Gantharat will turn out to be missing, imprisoned by mysterious circumstances.

A man passed, half carrying another man with a bandaged head. Owena stepped up to them and helped to lay the almost unconscious man on the bunk bed next to Andreia. “He’s in a bad way.” Owena pressed her fingertips against the injured man’s neck. “His pulse is thin and fast. What happened to him?”

“Berentar took a bad fall from the roof of a building when the Onotharians attacked.” The younger man next to him shook his head. “I’ve taken care of him, but I got this when I asked for medical attention for him.” He showed a bad contusion to the side of his head, apparently from the butt of a plasma-pulse rifle.

“Berentar?” Andreia rose quickly and approached them. “Are you a member of Paladin’s and Berentar’s cell?”

“Yes. I’m Eosomas.” He stopped, suddenly looking even younger as he frowned. “They were going to send me to Kovos, but I managed to sneak along with Berentar, so he’d have someone he knew to take care of him. Do you have any news of my resistance cell?”

“We’ll talk about this later,” Owena hushed them, motioning with her chin at the new prisoners that entered the room.

Andreia knew they had to keep a very low profile. Eosomas was probably who he said he was, but they had to confirm this with Roshan before they continued their operation. They were under time pressure, since they had to coordinate with the Protector and Doc on Kovos. In the meantime, Andreia knew it would be wise to try and single out which one in their room was an Onotharian agent. She knew their methods, had even been forced to condone some of them herself, to keep her secret identity intact.

She glanced around the room, examined the faces of the eight men and six women, not counting Berentar and Eosomas. They all looked scared, some injured, and others merely fatigued.

Andreia sighed.
So. Which one of you is the traitor?

Kellen moved quickly through the crowd on Kovos, clutching disposable bottles of water and food rations against her chest. Her hair was in complete disarray, and her scalp stung from where a woman had yanked it, trying to get to the food dispenser. Annoyed, Kellen couldn’t muster any anger toward people who had to fight for their food once a day. She doubted there was quite enough for everyone; in fact, she wondered if the Onotharians didn’t estimate how many rations they needed, then downsize.

Around her, people pushed and shoved to get closer to the dispenser. Kellen could tell which prisoners had been on Kovos the longest. They were undernourished and pale, with tattered outfits hanging from their bony frame.
We need to get out of here and take them to SC medical facilities.

Admiral Ewan Jacelon, Kellen’s father-in-law, had arranged for the medical planners among his staff to deploy three of the SC’s medical ships to the border. As soon as the SC forces were able to go forward, they would be ready to join the convoy.

Kellen ducked into the cave—there was no other word for the “room” she, Doc, Sarambol, and Ayahliss occupied with twenty other prisoners. Knowing full well that her food supplies wouldn’t be enough for all of them, she sat down as inconspicuously as possible and handed out the rations. They had no real beds; instead they slept on mattresses laid out on the floor with one blanket each. Kellen had learned of a black market of sorts for blankets, and she’d traded the camisole she’d worn under her prison shirt for a second blanket for Sarambol. The woman now huddled under the covers, pale and reluctant to eat.

“I’m really nauseous,” she moaned, “but I guess it’s normal?”

“It is,” Doc agreed, and held out half a ration bar. “But you still have to eat. You can’t sustain the child merely on water.”

Sarambol took the bar and nibbled it before swallowing hard. “Oh, that tastes awful. But anything for my baby.” She smiled bravely and nibbled another piece.

“I imagine it’s madness out there,” Doc said, and sat down next to Kellen.

“Yes, it is. We have to wait until everything calms down, then reconnoiter. As far as I can tell, the only surveillance equipment is around the major gates, where we came in. I suppose their philosophy is, ‘Out of sight, out of mind.’” She shrugged. “An Earth saying.”

“I understand.” Doc took a sip of water, then carefully closed his bottle and placed it inside his waistband. “So, when the new prisoners settle down, we need to figure out who’s the leader in here.”

“Yes,” Kellen agreed. “Someone usually takes charge in places like these, and since most of the prisoners here are resistance members, or dissidents, I’m hoping that they still live by some sort of code of honor.”

“There’s always hope.” Kellen turned to the young girl next to her. “Ayahliss, can you tell me how you came to train in Gan’thet?”

Ayahliss took a mouthful of her bar and chewed energetically. She resembled a power nacelle all by herself and seemed to be able to go full force all day. “The monks of the Quasatira Loy taught me.”

Kellen stared at Ayahliss. “There’s no way you could have…You’re too young!”

“Are you calling me a liar?” Ayahliss stopped chewing and got to her knees. “I never lie!”

Groaning inwardly at Ayahliss’s volatile nature, Kellen held up her hand. “No, I’m not accusing you of anything. I’m merely suggesting that you may have been tricked into believing—”

“I wasn’t tricked. The monks took me in as a baby, when they found me on their Journey. I grew up with them, and they taught me everything I know. I have knowledge in six subjects that equal the degrees and diplomas at the University of Ganath, according to Ramnes
Hegor.”

Kellen tried to sort through what Ayahliss was telling them. “They were on a journey? Where to?”

“They were hunted down, one by one, during the occupation, and the holy place Quasatira Loy was leveled.” Ayahliss’s voice sank an octave and was barely more than a whisper. “Only twelve of them survived by hiding among ordinary people, and when they found their way back to each other, they prayed together for days. Eventually the Gods of Gantharat gave them a sign that they needed to relocate. Ramnes Dymor had a vision of an abandoned temple inside a cave.” The girl fidgeted and her distress was obvious. “I was one of a total of ten children of various ages who the monks took in during the years just after the occupation. They wandered for four years, during which time they located me and the other children, before they found the cave.”

“Where?” Doc said, as they all listened to Ayahliss’s story.

“On the peninsula of Davost, inside the last part of the Merealian Mountains, they found an abandoned ancient temple, originally only a myth among the local people. The monks knew there had to be more truth to it and found the entrance. It was perfect, easy to defend if necessary.” Ayahliss drank some water. “So, that’s where I grew up.”

“What ‘degrees’ do you have?” Mandira asked. “I mean, what did Ramne
s
Hegor teach you?”

Ayahliss smiled. “Oh, it wasn’t just him. They all possessed different skills, and I learn easily, it seems. I have the knowledge equal to a degree in astronomy, herbal healing, mathematics, pottery, martial arts, and literature.”

Mandira looked stunned and not doubtful at all. “Amazing,” she said. “And you say it as if it were nothing.”

“Oh, I don’t mean it’s nothing.” Ayahliss grinned. “It was damn hard work, and a lot of tests, but I had very little else to do in the valley and inside the old temple.”

“And how did you end up in the resistance?”

“I grew up. It was time for me to leave, Ramnes Hegor said. I didn’t want to, not really, but once I went out into the world and saw the injustices of the Onotharians, I knew I had to help do something about the situation.” Ayahliss’s face darkened. “I was naïve. I wasn’t prepared for reality on the outside. Every new friend I made in my resistance cell was either captured or killed.”

And so your fury grew almost out of control.
Kellen knew all too well how it felt to lose a loved one.
There was a time when I thought it was because of me, of my failure, that Father and Tereya died.

“I was at base camp with my cell leaders when the Onotharians struck. They killed the XO right before our eyes, and my cell leader…I’m not sure, but I think they took her to another holding place. That or she’s dead.”