A Time For Ryda (3 page)

“I need to get the package.” Smiling, she squeezed his hand once more. “Don't worry, Peter. I'll be right back.”

Drawn and haggard, he didn’t answer. Standing, Eve playfully stretching her arms wide, taking one last look around. With a casual air, she then made her way toward the front of the restaurant.

The flashing, multi-colored hostess stood her ground, thoughtfully eyeing her target’s approach. This was setting off alarm bells, Eve knew, but there were at least a few moments more to play with.

‘Heather,’ Eve’s student/party girl cover, would naturally take the opportunity to flirt with the beautiful young woman once more on the way to the bathroom. And having hinted at the prospect of retrieving TAIN’s message from its no doubt secret hiding place, the surveillance team would be loath to blow the whistle at this critical juncture.

Laughing and smiling, Eve walked right up to the hostess, pressing the entire length of her body up against her while encircling the young woman’s waist. She truly was a Rydian native, exuding the pleasant natural scent of the eastern continent. Some lucky Vextar agent must have received a pat on the back for recruiting her.

Now beginning to panic, the traitor’s lithesome body became very stiff. Enjoying the moment, Eve’s lips brushed lightly against her delicate ear.

“You Gandian loving whore!” Eve whispered, yanking the thin strand of gold material from the hostess’s waist. The flashing, fading holographic dress disappeared, leaving the hostess naked but for a small pistol attached to her upper leg.

Before she could react, Eve punched the hostess in the stomach and snatched the gun. Throwing her to the floor, a sharp kick to the head rendered the thrashing beauty instantly unconscious.

A waiter standing nearby yanked a firearm from his waistband. Eve instantly shot and killed him, the man’s body flung back into an ornate glass swan by the bar.

Utter pandemonium ensued, everyone dashing around and screaming for all they were worth. Force fields, no doubt installed specifically for today’s ambush, slammed into place over the outside verandas. All the agents Eve had spotted, and a few more she hadn’t, now drew weapons, yelling at everyone to get down.

Laser bolts sailed by Eve’s head, exploding a pile of holo-menus on the hostess stand. The entire area was instantly immersed in flashing, floating food. Eve ran through a varied selection of steaks, diving behind an overturned table.

Squeezing a device on her own waist similar to that worn by the hostess, Eve’s sparkling green outfit became a splotchy urban camouflage. Then, activating another unit on her wrist, a thin, clear shield formed close around her entire body. It would only withstand a few shots, but was definitely better than nothing.

Taking a deep breath, Eve leapt up from behind the table, gun blazing.

Clearly, the entire Vextar operation was in shambles. Both her own waiter and another agent were standing near the unconscious hostess, guns casting wildly about, easy targets for Eve's first two shots. A fusillade of return fire, though, erupted from around the restaurant. Disintegrating around her legs, chunks of flaming table careened into yelling bystanders, or flew out against the shields over the open-air balcony.

Now leaping to her right, a bolt glanced off the shield by her left hip, while another dissolved into a sparkling burst over her stomach. Dropping and rolling once more, Eve accidentally knocked someone over, who then fell down in front of her, promptly taking a laser bolt through the arm.

One of the Vextar men who’d been at the bar emerged from the frightened, swirling mass, firing almost point blank into her chest. Eve’s shield promptly overloaded, flaring out with a thunderous crack. Stunned, she lay on the floor, momentarily helpless.

The stampeding crowd saved her, however, dashing between them just as the Gandian was about to fire again. From the ground she shot both of his ankles, delivering the coup de grace after he hit the floor beside her.

A pulsating siren erupted to her rear. Glancing about, Eve saw two Gandian military patrol craft, each with two soldiers sitting one behind the other, hovering outside the restaurant’s shields.

“Cease and desist!” a deep voice boomed out. “In the name of the Gauten, cease and desist, or we will be forced to take action!”

Of course, the Gandian pronouncement only served to cause more panic, with dozens of terrified patrons who had retreated onto the open-air decks now flooding back into the main dining area. Sensing an opportunity, Eve stayed low, ignoring the occasional kicks as best she could.

It was then that she saw Peter again. Worm-like, he was scrunched up against another overturned table, both arms plastered over his face. Another wave of pure disgust overwhelmed her. To think of all the time she’d spent wondering of his fate, fantasizing of his supposed noble deeds. And now, to see what he’d really become…

Grimly raising her gun, Eve waited for a clear firing lane. Best to spare Peter the trouble of a post-war trial.

Peeking out, the turncoat now spotted her. Breathing heavily, Peter dropped his arms over his knees, blankly staring first at Eve’s gun, then straight into her eyes. Making no attempt to run or cover himself, Peter simply sat there, apparently accepting her final judgement. He even nodded slightly, almost in understanding, becoming the relaxed, strong Peter she’d known so well.

Despite the desperate circumstances and her own fury, Eve actually found herself overcome with an intense, overwhelming relief to know her first love was still there. Shocked, she let her weapon fall, suddenly terrified at her own eagerness to cut him down as she had the Vextar agents.

With a tremendous roar, the Gandian military craft blasted out a single section of the exterior shields. Bright, natural sunlight poured through the breach, marred only by the sight of the two military vehicles hovering like vultures on the other side. About twenty or so Rydian citizens, hoping only for a pleasant lunch in the city, dropped burning to the floor. Everyone else now fled to the far side of the restaurant.

All but one man, who went charging out into the open, waving a gun while furiously shouting at the Gandian military craft. Presumably the Vextar agent-in-charge, telling the army blockheads to clear out. Clearly the military had been unaware of the Vextar operation, probably assuming the Rydian Resistance was behind the sudden restaurant riot. Confused by the unusual shielding, they had simply decided to open fire.

Well, they could all sort it out after Eve was gone. With a final look at Peter, she leapt to her feet, racing toward the now gaping hole in the Vextar trap.

Somehow sensing her approach, the enraged Vextar agent swung about. Though Eve’s first shot caught him square in the chest, the energy bolt merely flared out on his own personal shielding. Ducking underneath the return shot, Eve plowed into the goon’s legs, sending them both sprawling to the floor. Using his superior weight and strength, though, the Gandian agent wound up on top of Eve, choking her with a forearm while holding his gun to her head.

“You little bitch,” he breathed. “Just wait until we…”

A blast of sickly yellow light came through the failed shielding. Protected by the Vextar agent crouched over her, Eve watched the Gandian’s face spasm in excruciating pain as his neural network flooded with artificial energy. Rolling clear just as the pulse from the military craft faded, Eve blasted a hole in the man’s head, doing the same for two more Vextar agents caught in the neural inhibitor a few steps off. Scooping up an agent’s laser rifle, she now faced the patrol craft.

“In the name of the Gauten!” thundered the military man once more, “I order you to…”

Tightly holding the heavy weapon, Eve sprinted once more at the destroyed section of shield, activating a personal anti-grav unit as she launched herself into open space.

Clearly, the Gandian storm troopers weren’t expecting a counter-attack. Eve sailed between the two craft, thoroughly raking the one to her left. Chunks of scorched and burning metal dropped several stories down to the street below, or went flying into the once beautiful Farensia River with a sizzling hiss. The transparent cockpit dome withstood the initial barrage, though the men inside were obviously battered and disoriented by the intense energy impacts. Slewing off to one side, they actually fired a full burst into the other patrol craft.

Flashing over the Farensia, then landing on the opposite side with a graceful flourish, Eve turned to see both stricken vehicles first crash to the ground, then explode with a dull roar.

It was just past midday, with sparser crowds than when Eve was a child, but still plenty of people about. Dropping the bulky rifle, Eve jogged between two buildings, once more twisting the band on her waist.

The woman who sauntered out into the next street, after first ducking through a store’s back entrance and traversing another alley, appeared to be a 45-year-old brunette, with conservative slacks and a blue shirt. Carefully controlling her own pace, Eve strolled down toward the harbor, in the opposite direction from the spaceport.

A squad of Gandian troops went pounding the other way, knocking an old woman aside as they passed. Bending down to help, Eve was momentarily transfixed by the quivering fear in the woman’s eyes, the garish bruise already forming on her cheek.

“Thank you, dear,” she mumbled, tightly holding Eve's hand. “Oh, my goodness, thank you so much.”

Though a massive Gandian dragnet was surely in the offing, Eve still waited the seven minutes it took for the emergency squad to show up. Banned from using their normal hover ambulance, the Rydian Response Team, Eve knew, was doing the best they could. Of course, in that time a dozen or so Gandian police and military vehicles shot by overhead, sirens blaring out over a populace becoming increasingly numbed to their presence.

Giving the old woman a final hug, Eve then went on her way. Having taken the precaution of generating false papers for her current identity, Eve made it through the initial checkpoints without any difficulty.

Standing on a small hill, Eve stared back at the once proud city, a thin plume of smoke rising from the carnage of the Contemplar. By any objective standard, she’d done very well. Though her contact had been compromised, Eve had managed to detect and evade the Vextar’s carefully laid ambush, albeit with some inadvertent help from the Gandian military.

Best of all, it would still be possible to deliver her package to the Rydian Resistance. Her backup contact, to be used in case Peter didn’t show, was on Cenadia, the second-most populated planet in the system.

And if the entire Resistance had been penetrated? Well, the Cenadia cell had no idea she was coming, so it would be impossible for Vextar to set another trap. TAIN would want a full report, one way or the other.

Yes, Eve had done well, but for one thing. Sentiment had no place in her line of work. She should have killed Peter when she had the chance.

***

NEVER IN HIS life had the Gauten seen such beautiful sunsets. Every evening, from his personal suite at the very top of a luxury hotel, he made a point of watching the brilliant Rydian primary sink down below the horizon. Sometimes the vibrant ocean haze appeared to emanate from the glowing sun itself as it seemingly settled into the water. It was almost as if the dazzling orb was actually extinguished each day, only to be born anew on the morrow.

Of course, it was this planet’s vast dynate lode, rather than sunsets, that had most intrigued the Gandian war planners when contemplating Ryda’s conquest a decade ago. But after nearly 40 years of service on dozens of different worlds, the Gauten was still amazed at how the natural splendor of the universe could be so very soothing.

A soft musical chime announced his next visitor. Well, it would be interesting to see if the Rezident had any soothing words concerning the Contemplar debacle. Sighing, the Gauten turned around, pressing a button on his desk to activate the door.

A severe looking woman stalked into his office, planting herself before the Gauten’s desk. Of early middle age, with short, dark hair, the Vextar chieftain on Ryda was clearly in superb physical condition. Coolly staring him down, hands slightly curled, the Rezident appeared in no way cowed by the day’s events.

Like just about every Gandian Army officer, the Gauten had learned to despise the secret police on his rise through the ranks. Many good commanders had been ruined by their baseless claims, countless troops wasted covering up their excesses. Though normally hard to abide, the Rezident’s haughty demeanor this evening was truly remarkable.

Thus, the Gauten deliberately studied her before speaking. “Have you caught the Terran spy?”

“We will have her shortly.”

“I see.” Now taking his seat, the Gauten casually leaned back. “And what makes you so sure of that?”

The Rezident’s eyes narrowed. “She is alone, without support. It is only a matter of time.”

“Is that so?” Smiling, his hands dropped lightly onto the armrests. “And what of today?”

“Today,” she replied, “your imbecile troops interfered in a Vextar operation, directly leading to the deaths of eight agents and the escape of an enemy operative.”

There was complete silence. The Gauten now brought his chair forward.

“Nonsense.”

“I think not.”

“My dear Rezident,” he began, each word clear and distinct. “Your intelligence reports lacked any mention of the Terran spy’s presence on Ryda. You also failed to inform me of this afternoon’s escapade in advance. This requires an explanation.”

“Not really.” Placing her hands on the desk, the Vextar woman now leaned down toward him. “My dear Gauten, let us be clear. The Vextar does not report to you. I am required only to pass along information where and when I feel appropriate.”

“Ah, the mantra of the Vextar! How consoling, given the laughingstock we’ve become.” Now it was the Gauten’s turn to stand, leaning over so that their faces were only a few inches apart. “And what of competence? Are you required to exercise that all the time, or only where and when you feel appropriate?”