On The Imperium’s Secret Service (Imperium Cicernus) (48 page)

They cantered across a long road that seemed to lead right around the planet, and then suddenly stopped.  The horses protested loudly when Fitz tried to push them into going further.  A moment later, Mariko felt the field of emotional repulsion they’d experienced the last time they were here, although
this
time Fitz seemed just as badly affected as she.  He tethered the horses to a tree trunk, hopefully out of sight of the road, and then walked directly into the field.  Mariko followed, taking his hand in hers.

The desire to run grew stronger and stronger.  She continued to resist it silently, telling herself she knew all about it and would not give in ...

And then it snapped off.

“Curious,” Fitz said.  “They took down the entire field.”

Mariko blinked in surprise.  “Why?”

“I don’t know,” Fitz admitted, “but I don’t think we’re going to like the reason when we find out.”

The jungle seemed less impenetrable than it had the last time they’d visited the rebel base, almost as if someone had removed trees at random.  Fitz suggested that it might be punishment duty for rebel soldiers who hadn't obeyed orders, noting that military punishments were meant to involve backbreaking labour as a reminder to obey orders in the future.  This time, there was no sign of any guards, but they still crawled the final metres to the cliff face they’d used to look down upon the base once before.  Fitz swore quietly as the rebel base came into view.  Mariko followed his gaze and understood.

When they’d last seen it, the rebel base had been a single field; now, it was several fields, all surrounded with barbed and charged wire.  Each field held a number of prisoners and more were arriving.  Mariko saw a long line of people, their hands tied behind their backs, being marched down into the detention centre.  It was hard to be sure, but from their fine clothes she suspected that most of them were aristocrats.  Fitz gritted his teeth as a protesting teenage girl was forced into an open cell, her tattered dress falling in rags around her.  With her hands tied, there was nothing she could do to cover herself.

“Most of the guards are human,” Mariko observed, shocked.  The remainder were from a dozen separate alien races.  “How can they do this to their own people?”

Fitz snorted.  “How could Carlos have you and Mai lined up for an eternity of sexual torture just for refusing him?  Who needs evil alien races when humanity is perfectly capable of brutalising itself?”

He shook his head.  “I think we can get down to the main buildings over there,” he said, pointing to a place where the jungle ran down to the buildings.  “Come on, carefully.”

Mariko followed him as he crawled down through the mud, walking almost like a climbing monkey as he inched downwards towards the base.  It was hard for her to follow him, even though she knew there was no choice; being covered in mud wasn't her favourite activity.  But she kept following him somehow, hoping that the jungle would be enough to shield them both before they reached the rebel buildings.  If nothing else, being completely naked might distract the guards long enough for them to get the drop on them.

But nothing happened as they reached the side of the building and inched towards the door.  It was locked, but Fitz picked up a piece of metal from the ground and went to work on it; a moment later, it clicked open.  He chuckled, very quickly, as they slipped inside, stepping into an air-conditioned room.  A quick check revealed a handful of rebel uniforms in a locker, next to a shower.  Mariko pointed Fitz towards it and he nodded.

“Good thinking,” he said.

They showered before donning the rebel uniforms.  The uniforms had clearly been tailored for humans, suggesting that humans might actually be the majority race in the Secessionists.  But perhaps that wasn't a surprise.  The human race was almost certainly the most numerous race in the Imperium – and besides, it was going to be difficult for the Imperium to extract revenge on humans by indiscriminate bombardment.  No other race could say that. 

Fitz stepped into an office and stopped.  Two young women stared at them – both clearly astonished to see the intruders.  Fitz jumped forward and knocked one of them down, while the other stumbled backwards until she hit the rear wall.  Mariko found a roll of tape and used it to tie up the first woman while Fitz dragged the second woman over to her. 

Once they were both tied and gagged, Fitz checked through the office.  It included a surprising amount of paperwork for a rebel organisation.

“Even rebels need to be organised,” Fitz commented, sardonically. 

Mariko blinked at the anger in his tone.  All this hadn't just been going on under the noses of the Grand Senate, but had been actively created by someone who might have risen to the Senate one day. 

“See if you can find a list of prisoners...ah.”

Mariko followed as he left the office and glanced outside through a pair of transparent windows.  “They intend to keep the governors and most of the aristocrats hostage until Zero Hour, which appears to be four days from now,” he said.  “But everyone who isn't considered useful has been transferred to an underground cell.”

“And that includes Mai,” Mariko guessed, as they found the shaft leading down into the underground part of the complex.  It reminded her of the base they’d found under Greenland, but much more secure.  So close to the lava pools, it would be easy to trigger charges to destroy the base and all evidence of what they were doing there.

“I hope so,” Fitz muttered back, as they reached the bottom of the stairs. 

Two rebel guards stood there, both carrying shockers.  Not lethal, therefore safe enough in the hands of prisoners – but enough to discourage prisoners from trying to escape. 

Fitz raised his voice as they approached the guards.  “We’re your relief.”

One of the guards looked puzzled.  “We only just got on duty,” he protested.  “I think there’s been a scheduling error.”

“Well, it’s an error in our favour,” the other said, quickly.  “These two can stay on guard and...”

He passed Fitz his shocker, who promptly used it to shock the other guard to his knees.  The guard barely had a moment to react when Fitz brought the shocker down on his head, sending them both to the ground.  Fitz kicked them both precisely and they fell into darkness.  Mariko rather pitied them; they would have to explain their failure to Lady Mary and her rebel subordinates.  She was likely to hurl them into the parts of the jungle that contained
really
dangerous creatures. 

Fitz pulled the door open and looked inside.  Nearly two hundred people were seated in a dark room, their hands bound.  Some of them looked to be on the verge of death; others were constantly testing their bonds, trying to escape.  Mariko saw Mai in one corner, a nasty bruise on her face, and ran to her sister.  Mai looked up, as if she couldn't quite believe what she was seeing, and then cried as Mariko hugged her.  The knife she’d taken from one of the mounted huntsmen was enough to slice through Mai’s bonds and free her sister. 

“Interesting,” Fitz said, as he managed to brighten the lights.  “How many of you have some form of augmentation?”

In the bright light, Mariko realised that most of the prisoners had been given suppressing collars, just like Fitz.  She let go of Mai and started to release the other prisoners, one after the other.  Some of them got to work, finding their own knives; others looked around as if they expected Fitz to start barking orders.  Most of them, she decided, were probably bodyguards who had lost the ability to protect their charges before they even realised it.  A number clearly had
some
augmentation.

“Right,” Fitz said.  He cleared his throat.  “For those of you who don’t know what’s going on, this is a Secessionist base and the people you meant to protect are Secessionist hostages.  The Secessionists have a cunning plan that could mean complete disaster, so I’m afraid it's up to us to stop them.  It's also the only way to save your charges – they’re not going to kill them at once, but if their main plan comes off, the hostages will suddenly decline in value.”

He broke off.  “Where did you hide that?”

Mai giggled.  “Wouldn't you like to know?” she asked, as she held up a sonic screwdriver. “They slapped me around a bit and dumped me in here, but they never bothered to search me.  Don’t they know I
always
carry a sonic screwdriver?”

Fitz
looked
at her, his expression unreadable, then ordered her to start removing the collars.  Mai complied, starting with Fitz.  He looked visibly relieved as his collar came off.  Then he turned to the hostages.

“The only chance we have is for us to work together to take this base, liberate the hostages and capture as many of the Secessionists as possible before they escape.  As a Colonel in the Grenadier Guards, if retired, I am assuming command.  Would anyone like to object?”

There was a click as another suppressor collar fell to the floor.  The liberated bodyguard promptly went to work on another, while Mai moved on to the next person. 

Mariko shook her head proudly, and then moved on herself – and stopped.  She
recognised
the man staring at her, his eyes wide with horror.  Carlos hadn't changed a bit since she’d last seen him, the day he’d watched her and Mai get beaten and then hauled off to jail for a show trial.  What was
he
doing on Tuff?

The answer was obvious, when she thought about it.  Carlos’s dad
was
part of the government, after all, and with so many men removed from Dorado the Secessionists would have little trouble securing control.  The government was so unpopular that there would hardly be a fight if most of it had already been decapitated.  And yet...she stared at him, feeling the knife in her hand.  He was bound and helpless; it would be easy to cut his throat for his crimes.  Mai was hardly the first girl he had tried to force into bed – of that she was sure – and she doubted that having them both thrown into jail was his first abuse of authority.  She could kill him...

Carlos whimpered, and tried to back away. 

She barely noticed when Fitz put his hand on her shoulder.  “Your choice,” he said.  “I understand. If you want to cut his throat...”

Just for a moment, she understood Fitz a little better.  He
cared
, but at the same time he couldn't deal with
all
the evil he saw – and Carlos was a very small evil indeed.  And yet he had tormented his own people long before he’d ever crossed their path.  How could
anyone
tolerate his existence?

Her hand shaking, she reached out and sliced Carlos’s throat.  Mariko dropped the knife, staring at what she'd done, and then looked up at Fitz.  He understood. 

Mai gasped as he slumped to the floor, bleeding to death.  None of the others seemed to care.

“Everyone free?”  Fitz demanded, as he strode back to the front of the room.  “Remember, we want prisoners. But if it comes down to the safety of our people, kill them all.”

With that, he led them out of the chamber and back up the stairs.

Fitz caught her as she reached the top of the stairs.  “I’m going to put everyone who isn’t augmented under your command,” he
told her. 

Mariko stared at him in disbelief.  After killing Carlos, she wanted to sit down and cry.  But there was no time. 

“Keep back; let us handle the hard stuff.  And take care of the prisoners if you can.”  He smiled.  “Don’t put up with any crap, though.”

“No, sir.” Mariko reached out and embraced him.  “Don’t you dare get yourself killed.”

“I’ll do my best,” Fitz said.  “All right, everyone; let’s go.”

The line of augmented bodyguards followed him towards one of the Secessionist weapons rooms.  There were two guards in front of it, but neither of them was prepared for a sudden attack by a force of angry, augmented men.  They were both knocked down with minimal fuss and the weapons room was opened, allowing the bodyguards to pick up a hundred assault rifles, shotguns and hunting weapons.