The Mandate of Heaven (9 page)

My father caught the weapon with his free hand, brushing it away from him, like a bothersome gnat.   He literally tore it from the man’s grasp, negligently discarding it like a broken toy.  The man had no time to reach for another, as the fusion beam swung back around in his direction, literally decapitating him.

Father was still turning around when the sound of another gunshot echoed around the room.

He stood frozen in place, seemingly stunned, raising his free hand where it had instinctively covered his chest.  He stared in disbelief at the hand that came away bloodied.  Taking a faltering step back, the fusion pistol fell from his nerveless fingers, landing with a
thud
on the floor.  Everything was still for a moment, dark shadows dancing everywhere, cast by the flames that were now climbing the bookshelves.  Taking another step back my father collided with the desk, only then did his legs finally give out, and he slid to the floor, head resting against the side of his desk.

Javier and the two other remaining men, took a cautious step forward, but lowered their weapons after a moment’s hesitation, when it became obvious that the wound was fatal.

“I win,” father gurgled, with a faint smile.

“No, now you finally die.  You conceited old fool.  What you should have done thirty years ago and saved us all the time and effort,” Javier spat.

“Time well spent, a precious gift bequeathed to me by Lady Jessica.  Sadly, I was only able to partly repay her,” as he cast his gaze around the room, now littered with the bodies of the dead.  “But why?” he coughed, blood bubbling from between his lips.  “She was innocent, not deserving—who would go to so much trouble?”

“Something that you can ponder together, when you see her next.  Pass on my regards.”  Javier once again raised his pistol to finally finish the task that he was meant to accomplish thirty years before.

For a second time, in the span of a few minutes, the sound of a single gunshot echoed throughout the room and then everything went still.

My father was dead.

*****

I couldn’t believe it.  For so long he’d been a fixture in my life, a giant of a man, larger than life, always striding along besides me, now gone, forever.  A cry of pain, anguish and despair rang out.  As if the heavenly angels were crying out at his loss.  A man, who with my final words I cursed, disparaged and vilified—for a crime he didn’t even commit.

It was only when three pairs of eyes swung in my direction, surprise evident in their faces that I realised that the scream had come from my own throat.  In blind panic I stumbled away from the concealed door, half running, half falling down the steps in the direction of the ship and safety.  I hadn’t waited a moment too soon, as behind me the door exploded inwards in a cloud of wooden shards, burning pages, smoke and flames.  I glanced back wildly to see the three of them, hurrying through the gaping hole. Paying more attention to them than the steps, I missed one, tripped, and went flying head over heels down the stairs.

That fall saved my life.

The hail of gunfire went straight over my head, where I had been standing only moments before with stone fragments and bullets flying all around me.  Coming to a halt in a pile of battered and bruised limbs at the bottom of the stairs, I didn’t even hesitate, sprinting in the direction of the ship as if my very life depended upon it, which of course, it did.

I finally made it to the ship and frantically hammered on the panel to close the door, which thankfully it did with seconds to spare.  The bullets pinged against the door, like hail during a thunderstorm.  Gasping for breath, I made my way to the flight deck, slumping into one of the pilot’s seats.

Looking through the cockpit windows, I soon realised that I had made a fatal mistake.  I thought that I was safe because their guns couldn’t penetrate the ship and they didn’t have the access codes to enter, but they didn’t need either, because from pouches in their dark armour, they withdrew a number of small, squat, oblong devices.  I had no idea what they might be, until one-by-one they drew pins from them, before tossing the devices towards the ship.  I could hear them bounce against the hull, coming to a rest above, and below, the ship.

While I had never seen a grenade before, I instinctively knew that is what they must be.  I had no idea what sort of damage they could inflict on the ship, and had no plans to hang around to find out.  One glance at the flight instruments was enough to show that all pre-flight checks had already been carried out and the engines were simply in standby.  The ship was ready to depart at a moment’s notice.  Suddenly my father’s earlier words rang out through my head, how he had been expecting these men, for over thirty years.  No wonder he never left his study, he had his escape route long planned out, ready and waiting.

One that I had no hesitation in using.

Activating the pre-programmed launch sequence, the ship immediately came to life.  The thrusters glowed an incandescent white and with a noticeable tremble the ship slowly rose into the air, the nose swinging around as soon as the ship was clear of the ground.  I could feel the vibrations as the landing pads retracted, along with the ominous sound of the grenades grating across the length of the ship.  My worries about the grenades were cut short when, with an ominous rumble, the main engines came to life and the ship started to edge forward—directly towards a rock wall!  It was only then that I remembered the cavern didn’t have any entrances, or exits, large enough to fit the ship.

Another scream was torn from my lips, as the ship suddenly leapt forward, like a stallion from the starting gate.  The ship was immediately buffeted by multiple explosions and, for a horrifying instant, I thought it was caused by the ship colliding with the wall, but the explosions were coming from
behind
the ship.  For at the same time a massive hanger door had revealed itself, as black as the surrounding rock, obviously being pre-programmed along with the launch sequence, as the ship slipped through it with inches to spare on either side.  Behind the door, on both sides of the ship, was cave after cave, full of stalagmites and massive tree roots.

All raced past in the blink of an eye, as the ship continued to accelerate, until eventually I was pressed back into the seat.  Like some great invisible hand was pushing against my chest.  Ahead I could just make out a spot of light, which grew and grew, until before I’d even realised what was happening the ship was out of the caves and flying through a massive waterfall.  I could hear the sudden pounding of the water against the hull and then everything went white, as the ship abruptly climbed into the sky.  Droplets of water fell from the hull and in the bright sunlight everything seemed to glow like a kaleidoscope, a brilliant prism of colours—and then I was free.  Climbing higher and higher into the sky, most obviously on some sort of pre-programmed flight path.

Somehow I had made it out alive or, so I had thought, but my mad-dash escape was far from being over.

The ship had barely broken atmosphere, struggling against the incessant pull of gravity, trying to pull us back to Arcturus, when a whole new panel of the ship’s flight-display suddenly lit up, showing an intricate, three-dimensional hologram, of another ship.

Earlier when I was discussing the ranking of ships, well, this new one was fairly high up on that list.  Although, it was totally incapable of landing on a planet or even entering the atmosphere, as that would have interfered with all the guns, missiles and laser emplacements protruding from the ship.

A warship; heavy destroyer class, and it was gaining, rapidly.

My first instinct was to call for help, before common sense overrode that idea.  After all this was Arcturus and all we had was the
SPC Orion. 
Having patched that ship up myself, I was fully aware of its capabilities—and it wouldn’t last five seconds against this monster.

My next idea was simply to outrun it, after all the
Celeste
was far smaller and appeared to have more powerful engines than one would have imagined.  I idly wondered what Professor Alcubierre might have done to improve them?  Possibly they generated artificial wormholes to allow instantaneous Galaxy spanning travel?  My musings were rudely interrupted by a shrill alarm.  As I wondered how things could get any worse, the image of the warship vanished, to be replaced with what seemed like a map of the surrounding space, with the
Celeste
in the middle.  Visible on this a dozen or so blinking red dots fast approaching the ship, it didn’t appear as if I would be outrunning them after all…

Something inside of me just seemed to snap.  In the space of an hour my life had been turned upside down.  My father murdered in front of me and I had been shot at, almost blown up and now I had a massive warship bearing down on me, missiles only seconds away from tearing the ship apart.  So I did what I should have done from the very beginning, if my mind hadn’t been clouded over while I had been living in a state of continual fear and abject terror.

I activated the ship’s cloaking device.

The effect was immediately apparent, because where only moments before the missiles had been seconds from impact, now they were twisting away in every direction imaginable, soon exploding in a last ditch, desperate, final attempt.  It was futile, as they were still some kilometres distant and, even had they been on top of the ship, we were now separated by several different dimensions.

I sat in that seat for what seemed like the longest time, watching as the destroyer crossed my orbit several times, fruitlessly trying to find me, but it was impossible.  No scanner or sensor in existence could detect this ship or I. Finally, they abandoned their search, vanishing into faster-than-light.

I let out a deep breath that I wasn’t even conscious I had been holding, before looking around in a daze, wondering what I was going to do next, knowing now that I was finally safe.  Instinctively I turned the ship around back towards home, Arcturus, before I stopped myself.  There was nothing left there for me.  My father was dead, our home more than likely gone, as the fire had most likely consumed everything.  Even worse it was most probable that they had left a couple of men there to await my return.

That still left me with a choice of almost three hundred different planets, as the
Celeste
was equipped with its own Alcubierre drive.  Until I remembered one of the last conversations with my father—Sagouran Fever, it had already reached Canis Major.  Possibly Arcturus was one of the few planets that hadn’t yet been infected.  I could simply be replacing one danger with another, far worse, one.

I was completely out of ideas.

Who knows how long I might have just sat there, had my eyes not fallen upon a dark object that had slipped under the seat.  Reaching down I picked it up, instantly recognising it as my father’s journal.  I’d kept my promise to him to keep it safe.  Remembering his final words that it would answer all my questions, I turned to the first page and started to read.

*****

Almost twelve hours later I read the final entry, before closing the book.  My eyes had grown puffy and red, from the almost constant crying.  I don’t know how many lines were now illegible, having wiped my tears from the pages.  I should never have doubted my father, as my first instinct had always been correct.  He was a good, honourable man.  Somebody I would forever respect, that I could look up to and aspire to be.  But more than that, his journal indeed had answered all my questions, including what to do next.

My father had devoted over thirty years of his life to me, looking after me, protecting and teaching me—never asking or expecting anything in return.  Well, it was time that I repaid him for a lifetime of sacrifices.  For he had taught me that we record the past, study and learn from it, so that we don’t repeat the same mistakes.  While we cannot change the past, for when we go back it is no longer the past, but the present, we
can
change the future.  My father’s only real wish, beyond seeing me safe and well, was to give a young woman another chance at life.  To give back what was so cruelly taken from her, to give her a second chance.

It was a wish that I could grant, as I knew the exact place and time where I had to be.

The journey back will be long and arduous.  There are not enough supplies on board the ship to sustain me for that length of time and I daren’t go anywhere to restock.  I will have to use one of the suspended animation pods aboard the ship.  They should sustain me for the five years, with the cloak running at full power.  Long enough to take me back the thirty years that I need to go.

In case I don’t make it, then I leave behind these written words, in the very journal that my father treasured so much.  I will finish with what I should have said to him.

That I love you, and I’m coming for you.

Michael Grey

Arcturus, Sirius System, 2544

Mistakes.  Everybody makes them.  What is important isn’t the mistake itself, but learning from them, so never to be repeated.

How I wish that I’d learnt that lesson.

—From the journal of
Lord Alexander Greystone

Planet Osiris, Pegasus System, 2514

Lady Jessica Hadley, eldest daughter of High-Lord Hadley, opened her blue eyes and blinked away the last vestiges of sleep.  The room was still dark, long shadows cast by the silvery moonlight visible through the gap in the thin gossamer curtains.  A slight breeze from the open balcony door caused them to billow inwards, causing her to blink again at the sight.  She thought she had closed them prior to going to sleep.  The warm breeze brushed against her cheek making her sigh softly, it brought back memories of the dream that she had been enjoying.  The last vestiges of which were quickly receding, as intangible as smoke.  But one last image stuck in her mind, her dream lover gently brushing against her cheek with his lips, his caress so light that it made her feel like she would float away.

She could feel his touch even now, and still in the embrace of sleep she leaned into the contact, feeling his fingertips glide across her skin, like rose petals against silk.  Sighing, she opened her eyes once again, as they had drifted shut, taking note of the dark eyes staring unblinkingly back at her.  They were exactly the same colour as in her dream, a dark brown the colour of chocolate, framed by the very darkest lashes.

With a sudden, sharp, indrawn breath the fingers were abruptly withdrawn from her face.  For a brief moment she felt bereft, empty, surly a strange feeling to have in the midst of a dream?  The thought brought her fully awake as she focused on the face that was only inches from her own—a face that she didn’t recognise.

“Who are you?  What are you doing in my room?” she demanded, her voice hoarse, still heavily laden with sleep.  Her thoughts meanwhile were racing ahead.  Who was he?  What was he doing here, in her bedroom?  But most surprising of all was that she didn’t feel in the least bit threatened, the thought of crying out for help, never once crossing her mind.  Perhaps, her traitorous mind whispered, because the face so closely resembled the one in her dream?

“Hush,” he murmured.  “Go back to sleep, you shouldn’t be awake yet.”

“What are you talking about?  Who are you?” she demanded, anger clouding her words, as she pushed back the last remnants of sleep.  Remembering that she was only wearing her nightwear, she sat up, pulling the sheet close to her breast.

“You shouldn’t be awake, because I haven’t kissed you, yet,” the stranger replied as his expression softened, lips upturned in an enigmatic smile.  A joke that only he seemed to comprehend.  “I was told that there was a sleeping beauty, locked away in this tower, waiting for a prince to kiss her and wake her from her endless slumber.”

Jessica blinked, shocked at his words.  Was he crazy? Still one glance at his face seemed to banish that idea, he seemed very calm, for somebody who had only just escaped from Bedlam.  Even worse, his words caused her gaze to be drawn to his lips.  One glance at them and her dream suddenly hit her with full force, she remembered turning her cheek so their lips were suddenly touching, their tongues entwining.  “I think you’ve got the wrong room,” she uttered, her lips slowly curving upwards into a smile, trying to suppress the sudden blush that she could feel covering her cheeks.  Had he drugged her somehow?  Cast some sort of spell upon her?  What was wrong with her?

“I’m not so sure.  For I certainly have come across a sleeping beauty, but she awoke before I could kiss her.  I fear that I am too late, for has the handsome prince been and gone?  If so he was a fool to have ever left you behind.”

At this she laughed out loud, obviously if this stranger was going to hurt her he would already have done so.  Instead she sat up further, keeping the sheet tightly pressed against her, as she was hardly dressed to entertain, leaning closer until the two of them were practically nose-to-nose.  “I’ve been kissed by many princes, but none particularly inspired me.  Perhaps it was just because I haven’t met the right one.  Yet.”

It was official; she had completely lost her mind.

Here she was, in the middle of the night, alone with some stranger in her bedroom and she was flirting with him!  She had to supress a giggle at what her father would think, yet somehow she thought her brother would have approved, he never much cared for protocol either.  Looking into the stranger’s eyes, she wondered if they were really sparkling or whether it was just the starlight reflecting off them.  Would he really take up the challenge and actually kiss her?  One glance at his lips and she quickly had to avert her gaze.  Instead her eyes fell on his shoulder and ran along the length of his arm, to his hand.  He seemed to be holding something, but in the dim light she couldn’t quite make out what it was.  Frowning in frustration, she suddenly gasped when she realised what it was.

A knife!

“What?” she spluttered, trying to move away from him, but now caught up in the accursed sheet.  How could she have been so easily taken in by him?  “You were just trying to distract me with a charming smile and sweet words, before you gutted me?  That was your plan, to take me by surprise?  Some sick, perverted fantasy to get you off on?” Well she would show him.  If he thought that she was some hapless female, he was going to be in for a nasty surprise as she reached out for the fusion pistol, which she always kept within reach.

It had once belonged to her brother and, as soon as she touched it, she could feel his warm, reassuring presence reach out and embrace her.  Swinging back round, it was only at the last moment she remembered just how close they were.  Well, there was more than one way to deal with that and brought the pistol down on his nose.

Hard.

*****

Michael took a deep breath, peering out the crack in the wardrobe that he’d hidden in, a few hours earlier.  He had wondered if his father was ever going to arrive.  He had to keep stamping his feet, softly, to stop them going to sleep.  His breath had caught in his throat when
finally
his father had arrived.  He almost shouted for joy, before remembering where he was, and with whom.

Anyway, he wasn’t due to be born for a couple of years, so it was hardly as if his father was ever going to recognise him.  There had been one terrible moment, with his father standing over the woman, knife held high, when he’d been wracked by doubt.  Perhaps his father had lied?  His journal, nothing but a pack of untruths?  But he had doubted his father once before and this had led to disaster.  He refused to make the same mistake twice, so had simply held his breath and waited.

His faith had been rewarded, when with ear pressed to the door, he had managed to overhear short snippets of their conversation.  He rolled his eyes in mortification, he thought
his
pick-up lines had been bad and his father had ridiculed
him
?  Well, he was taking careful note now and was sure to pay his father back for all those comments.

A loud crash interrupted his thoughts and he quickly glanced back through the crack in the door.  By the High-Lords!  The two of them were going at it like two hormone-fuelled teenagers, on her bedroom floor.  Red-faced with embarrassment, Michael turned his back to the door and the couple, who were far too busy to notice him.

Whatever had happened to one’s elders, setting an example for the younger generation?  Anyway, he was meant to be here to save her life, not to chaperone them.  That thought brought him up short, reminding him that he was meant to be saving a life and he could hardly do that with his back to them.  So taking a deep breath, hoping that he wasn’t going to find clothes discarded everywhere, but fortunately the clothes were still on, mostly.  Instead the two were standing close together, his father reaching out to brush a finger along her cheek, a look of such yearning on his face that Michael had to tear his gaze away, not wanting to intrude on such a private moment.

It was only because he glanced away that Michael caught the movement out of the corner of his eye.  A shadow detaching itself from the wall.  There was somebody else in the room with them and neither of them had noticed.  It was only when he caught sight of the gun, a flash of silver moonlight glancing off the dark barrel.  Michael didn’t even hesitate, instead acting on instinct, barrelling out of the wardrobe towards the couple, while shouting at the top of his voice.

*****

“Watch out!”

The warning seemed to penetrate the fog around Alex’s brain, which always seemed to envelop him whenever he was near her.  He couldn’t think, couldn’t act, all he could do was
feel
.

Then something struck them both a glancing blow.

The force of the collision slammed Jessica into his chest and he reached out, catching her in time, but the force of the blow still spun them both around.  Fortunately, he managed to keep hold of her, drawing her closer into his chest to stop her falling.  That instinctive reaction saved her life, as the next thing he knew, in quick succession two bullets slammed into his back.

His response was instinctive, born out of years of harsh survival, where death could come at any time, simply by a momentary hesitation.  His fusion pistol was already in his free hand, tracking the source of the gunfire before he even consciously realised what he was doing.  The actual act of firing, only a thought behind, as the beam from the pistol hit the assassin squarely in the chest, from across the length of the room.  For an instant the beam, a tangible thing, connected Alex to the man, illuminating the room.  Then everything went dark, the assassin slumping to the floor, a smoking hole, all that was left of the man’s chest.

Then it was all over.

“Are you okay?” Alex looked on with concern, into her shocked blue eyes.  As she stared back at him, wide-eyed, with surprise.

“What just happened?  I heard somebody shout a warning, next thing I know you’re shooting—” Both their gazes were drawn in unison to the slumped body in the corner.  The uniform of Lord-Hadley’s personal guard clearly visible as he lay, slumped face down, on the floor.

With a cry of despair, Jessica rushed to the deceased man’s side.

“Damn,” Alex muttered, rubbing his face wearily having re-holstered his pistol.  “Can this night get any worse?”  A faint cry of pain from the floor reminded him that somebody had indeed shouted out a warning, saving his life.  Looking down he saw a pair of brown eyes staring back at him.  They belonged to a dark haired young man, possibly only a few years younger than himself.  The rapidly spreading bloodstain on the pristine white sheets clearly indicated that he had been shot.  A second glance revealed the wound to be fatal.  It must have been some sort of fragmenting round and from what little remained of his chest, he didn’t have long to live.

“Thank you for the warning.  You saved my life,” Alex said, kneeling beside him, laying his head back against the bed, trying to make him as comfortable as possible.  It was the least he could do for him.

“Then now we’re equal, for you once sacrificed your life for mine.  What of Lady Jessica Hadley?”

“She’s fine.”

“Then I thank the High-Lords for I’ve done what I set out to do.  Promise me you’ll watch over her.  She is very important, to both of us, for vastly different reasons.  As without her, neither of us would be here today.”

“I don’t understand,” Alex shook his head bewildered, glancing over at Lady Jessica, who was still staring down at the dead guard, a look of shock clearly etched on her face.  “Who are you?” he asked turning back to the man beneath him.

“Your son.”

For a brief moment Alex was speechless, before common sense prevailed.  The man could only be a few years younger than him, it was impossible.  “I think you’ve got the wrong person—”

The violent shaking of the man’s head interrupted him.  “I don’t have time to explain.  Take this.”  The young man passed Alex a leather bound book, the cover now smeared with blood.  “This will answer all your questions.”

“I don’t understand.  What questions?  Who does this belong to?”

“You,” the boy replied with the ghost of a smile.  “It was good to see you one last time and to say goodbye.”  With those final words, he went still, his eyes staring back at Alex vacantly, until he reached forward closing them gently.  “Goodbye and thank you for saving my life,” he whispered.  He looked up when he felt Jessica’s presence behind him.  “What of the other man?” he enquired.

“He’s also dead.”

“You knew him?” he asked, dreading the answer.  If he had been one of her father’s personal guards it was likely that she knew him, well.

“I’ve never seen him before in my life and I know all my father’s guards.  Did you know him?” Jessica asked, motioning towards the body on her bed.  “You know he looks a lot like you.”

Hearing her voice, Alex quickly got to his feet, all vestiges of exhaustion having fled at her words, his thoughts now racing on ahead.  Even now he could hear shouting and see lights coming on throughout the residence.  All the shouting and sound from his pistol, hadn’t gone unnoticed.  He stalked towards the door, the only entrance to the bedroom, eyeing a massive wooden armoire intently.  It must have weighed at least five hundred pounds or more.  “No, I’ve never seen him before.  You’re sure that you don’t recognise the man that shot at us?”