“Assemble a salvage team. And get whatever lunkheads you’ve got on this boat that serves as the med-team together, too. Just in case.”
#
Huston Morgan looked at the holoscreen in the basement of the farmstead and sipped his tea. The commentators were near- hyperventilating over the power outage that he and Austin had planned, and the aging veterans Bill and Theo had carried out.
Visibly harmless, Huston had remembered thinking, yet phenomenally dangerous. The two had served as the black-ops of his pater’s regiment, and had many warm memories of him.
Pater… Huston thought to himself, recalling the times he’d tried to interest Huston in some activity or other when Huston had been a snobby teenager, and Austin even moreso. Can’t let the guilt hit me, the thirty-year old thought to himself. Too many people watching. Time enough for that when this is over and you’re back with your wife and kids.
Austin stepped down the stairs, his long hair pulled back into a ponytail, his normally scraggly beard now trimmed and oiled after his latest surreptitious broadcast released on the infranet and the screensheets.
“Looks like your little program did its job right, big bro,” Austin said, flopping down on the couch with a sigh. “What’s the mood of the people?”
“Good, from our end. Everyone’s mad at Moreded, blaming him for the latest crisis.”
“No indications they know it’s sabotage?”
“Not that I’m getting. We’re not seen as interlopers; he’s just seen as an idiot who can’t keep the city running. My broadcast is doing the nostalgia thing, reminding everyone how nice it was when they could depend on the lights being on when they flicked the switch.”
“No deaths?”
“None that are our fault. We’re lucky indeed that the older gendarmes know what a fool Moreded is and defected to help us. Moreded’s ‘new police’ are not only young, inexperienced and dumb as a bag of pneumohammers.”
“And?”
“The new uniforms are atrocious fashion crimes against the population. Oh, and a squad of them opened fire on a bunch of miscreant teens last night. Killed a few of them for lipping off to them, sadly.”
“Kids?”
“Oh, no, brother. Teens, but not kids. Their leader, Cutter, is laid out on a slab and stands accused of over a dozen serious crimes, including nearly accosting our own flesh-and-blood before he left for darker pastures.”
“Accused?”
“Yes, but never convicted. All his victims decided not to testify in court at the last minute. Bad for them, good for us. I’m turning the little miscreant into a veritable Saint-of-the-streets on my underground channel, and Moreded’s looking twice as bad.”
“Nice.”
#
Count Morded, self-described liberator of New Avalon and aspirant to the throne of the Artorian Confederacy, sat in his chair and stared with a face of pur loathing out the window of his luxury apartment at the streaks of red of the breaking dawn.
“Fay,” he whispered, “what is happening?”
“At the moment,Viscount Moreded, you are the ruler of New Avalon. It is twenty-three minutes after the fifth hour, in the Years of Old Earth it is 3124 A.D., we will celebrate Christmas in two-hundred-thirty-four days using the calendar decreed by Pope Sebastian the Forty-Third in the year 2429 A.D., and…”
“I mean,” he said gritting his teeth, “why are issues continuing to arise in my domain? Why, after I liberated the people from the Red Star Coalition, kicked out that idiot Texas Morgan, and have assumed the place of authority here, why are the people continuing to rebel against me? Why have virtually all the gendarmes resigned, leaving me to conscript and recruit near children into their ranks? Why have the ministers disappeared, leaving me to make decisions without qualified advisors? Why…why can’t I even have an attractive woman spend any length of time with me who won’t look at the chronometer while she is here?”
“How much time do you have for an answer,Viscount Moreded?”
“How much do you need?”
“Enough to read to you and explain in modern vernacular the Old Earth documents known as the Declaration of Independence, Old Earth date of final signature July 4th 1776 A.D., the Preamble of the United States Constitution and its first ten amendments, collectively known as the Bill of Rights, Old Earth date of ratification December fifteenth, 1791 A.D., the Universal Declaration of the Rights of the Sentient Being, United Federation of Planets, Old Earth date of…”
This narrative has been unlawfully taken from Royal Road. If you see it on Amazon, please report it.
“I mean, Fay, why do I not enjoy the love and devotion of the people, after I’ve given them every reason to believe I’ve saved them from a dictator and a tyrannical empire?”
“Your polling numbers would indicate that the populace initially behaved as you would have wished them too,Viscount Moreded. The imprisonment of potential political opponents without trial, public announcement or public explanation severely curtailed your approval ratings among the populace.”
“Even with people no one cared about?”
“Your imprisonment on Golgotha of one Gerald Drachewych has been listed as a source of particular concern among the populace.”
“My sixth-grade teacher? He had it coming. Absolutely everyone hated him! He made kids cry every day in his class.”
“This is true. The lack of consequences for the public execution of the young man designated James ‘Cutter’ Madson has also stirred public opinion against you.”
“He was a gutter rat. The colony’s better off with him dead. Besides, wasn’t that just some teenaged gendarme recruit who shot him?”
“Again, without public trial or arrest. There is a concern among the populace that eventually, you will begin the arrest, imprisonment on Golgotha or summary executions of population members based upon your personal feelings towards them and their connections to you, rather than actual crimes they have committed.”
“And…this fear, this is why the people dislike me?”
“That, and the power outage your government security forces were unable to prevent last night. Such actions, the people are beginning to note publicly, never occurred when the Earl Texas Morgan was in charge of the colony.”
“Power outages- whiny little beasts! Fine! I’ll give them something that’ll…that’ll make them shut up, at least! Fay!”
“At your service, Viscount Mor-”
“No longer refer to me by that name! I am now to be referred to as…Emperor…no, too ostentatious. How about…hm- Ah! Yes! From now on, refer to me as…Prime Authority Moreded! Nice ring to it, and it doesn’t have the taint of the words ‘king’ or ‘emperor’ to it that these little yahoos are so suspicious of! Yes! Understood, Fay?”
“Yes, Prime Authority Moreded.”
“Watch the sarcastic tone, Fay. I can have your algorithms overhauled with a word, understand?”
“Understood, Prime Authority Moreded.”
“Yes, good. Fay, open a channel of communication for me. Subspace frequency, quite the long distance.”
“Yes, Prime Authority Moreded, where to?”
“The penal colony, designation Golgotha. I have to chat with an old friend there…”
#
“How much longer do you wanna wait, Boss?”
Joker looked at the sky, coughing and spitting. The tiniest hint of pink was in his spittle as it hit the blue-colored grass at his feet.
“Ah, das good joke, Joker,” Anja said, breathing deep and wincing as she looked down at the hastily wrapped bandage around her torso, and the long piece of metal that seemed to be growing out of it.
“They’ll be here, Anja,” said Dallas, looking up at the sky. “I’ve sent the signal, and they should make it.”
“You sure about that, boss?” said House, kneeling beside Anja again for the fourth or fifth time since they’d extricated her from the cockpit of her fallen warmech. “I’m beginning to wonder if they even know we’re down here, still. We haven’t heard nothin’ since we took down that walkin’ battleship overthere.”
“They wouldn’t leave us,” Dallas said.
“You sure about that, Boss? The crew of the Palefroi ain’t exactly evil but they ain’t angels, either.”
“House, the crew may not be the nicest bunch, but Gareth would never leave us.”
“And,” piped up Yue from where she was sitting, perched on the toe of her mech, “statistically speaking, even the most morally malformed crew would at least attempt a salvage operation of a machine with this much value in parts, metal, technology, weapons and other parts valued on the open and black markets.”
As if on cue, everyone heard a rumble in the distance.
“Know what that is?” Joker said, spitting again.
Several miles to Dallas’ right and another half-mile up in the air, a lone ship with a single rear engine and four wings, each with their own glowing white circles of a hover-engine lit up as well, descended through the cloud cover. The muffled sounds of the engine suddenly doubled in volume as it passed through the cloud cover.
Joker cheered! House raised both his muscular arms to the sky and whooped, both fists pumping and circling! Yue smiled, and Anja gave a weak, affirmative cry while raising an upturned thumb.
Dallas waited.
“Hey Boss,” House said, turning around when he noticed the serious expression on Dallas’ face, “What’s wrong? Ain’t you happy? We’re saved!”
“What’s that behind the ship? Dallas said.
Everyone turned to look and saw it.
A dark shape had arisen from the treeline, and was making its way towards the rescue vessel.
“Shite,” House said.
#
TO BE CONTINUED....