Sunset in Silvana (Da'ark Nocturne Book 1) (16 page)

When their transport arrived, they were surprised to find that Peter was on board.  “What happened to you?” Joseph asked him, as he sat down beside him.

“I don’t know,” the boy replied.  “I can’t remember anything between eating and drinking with you at the Opera House and waking up with a terrible headache at Security Headquarters.”

“Nothing at all?”

“Nothing.  They told me that I’d been found this morning, wandering the streets in a daze.”

The Major confirmed the boy’s story.  “He must have escaped his kidnappers somehow,” he said, “or they may have got the wrong person – perhaps they were after Josef and freed Peter when they realised their mistake.”  Given what Bartes and Tanya had seen, neither explanation held water – the boy had gone willingly.  What mystified them now was why he was playing along with the Major’s tale.

They arrived at the lakeside as dusk was beginning to fall.  The helicopter lowered the boat into the water and landed beside it.  Leaving RD to supervise as his precious catamaran was unchained and tied up to the jetty, the rest of them went inside their new dacha which, apart from extra heating and insulation against the cold, appeared to follow the same pattern as the one at Plune.

Tanya drew Joseph aside as they entered.  “Could you keep Peter occupied as much as possible?” she asked him quietly.  “We’ll need to make plans, and I don’t trust him.”

“But I want to help!”

“Shh!  You’ll help most by keeping him out of our hair.  Don’t worry, you’ll get plenty of excitement when we escape.”

“Okay... but just ’cause
you
asked me,” he muttered.

“Look, you’ll have to get over your resentment soon,” Tanya said.  “The only way we’ll get out of this predicament is to put aside our differences and work together -
all
of us.”  He shrugged resentfully and went off to distract Peter.

When they’d unpacked, they gathered in the lounge – apart from the two youngsters, who were playing chess in their room.  They’d hoped the Major might have left them by now, but he seemed to want to help them settle in, so they sat and made small-talk.  It was typical of Iain that he was the first to think of his stomach.  “Whose turn is it to cook?” he asked, looking pointedly at Tanya.

There was a brief silence before Tanya said, “Well,
I
don’t feel like making anything tonight.”

“There’s a superb restaurant by the lakeside,” the Major told them.   “I could get us reservations.”

“Would it be safe?” Anoushka asked.

“I can’t think that our enemies will be prepared to cause us any trouble up here yet,” he replied.  “Anyway, I’ll make sure there’s a heavy security presence.  I’ll go and make arrangements now.”

Iain turned on the radio once he’d left.  “Do you reckon that this would be an opportunity to escape?” he asked.

“I doubt it,” RD replied.  “We’d better keep our eyes open in case there’s a chance, but we’re woefully unprepared as yet.  I think we need to know a lot more about the lay of the land before we make our move.”

The Major returned.  “Our tables will be ready in an hour,” he told them.

“Let’s have a coffee before we go,” RD suggested.  “I’ll make it, if Comrade Talia will give me a hand,” he added, and disappeared in the direction of the kitchen, with Tanya following.  When they got there, he filled the kettle and, as he was transferring it to the cooker, he unaccountably dropped it.  He cursed, and gave Tanya an exasperated look.  “Well, don’t just stand there,” he snapped.  “Help me mop up.”

Tanya found some cloths and they started drying the floor.  When they’d cleared up most of the water, RD gave her a knowing smile.  With a slight inclination of his head, he indicated a similar drainage pattern in the floor to the one they’d seen at Plune, which showed that there was a trapdoor in exactly the same location as before – the two dachas
were
practically identical.

They sat making further small talk until the transport arrived – in the form of an Armoured Personnel Carrier.  “This vehicle is not exactly subtle,” Iain observed as they skirted the lake.

“But it
is
pretty safe,” the Major replied.

“Perhaps – but doesn’t it paint a big target on us?” Tanya said.

The Major shrugged.  “It should deter most people, and we have patrols out searching for rebels and Telphanian infiltrators – and anyway, once we’re at the restaurant, there will be some of my men in and around the building.”

“For what they’ve been worth,” Iain muttered.

“That’s rather unfair, Comrade,” the Major said, a degree of resentment in his voice.  “The situation with Telphania has stretched my people very thin, and you’re not the only ones under threat, you know.”

Iain grunted dismissively but took his criticisms no further, as their vehicle had drawn up at the restaurant.  They were greeted by the maître d’, and shown to their table.  The Major had ensured that they were in a corner far from the windows.  Once he’d circulated around the room and shared subtle but significant glances with several of the other diners, he went outside, no doubt to check on the perimeter guards.

The menu was extensive – and expensive, though as the Republic would be paying, they didn’t stint themselves.  Among the items that made Tanya salivate was calamari – one of her favourite dishes – in an oyster sauce.  Significantly, they all ordered non-alcoholic drinks – apart from Iain, who wanted vodka, and Joseph, whose request for beer was vetoed by his ‘guardian’.

As the evening wore on, they gradually relaxed.  Iain was availing himself of copious amounts of vodka, and Bartes became a bit concerned by his increasing inebriation.  “Haven’t you had enough, Comrade?” he asked the younger man.

He looked at Bartes and blinked.  “You can never,
never
have enough vodka, Bar – Boris,” he said owlishly.  “Well
I
can’t.  Or pretty women for that matter.” And he openly ogled the rather attractive girl at the next table, who was sitting on her own.

“Really, Ivan –” Bartes began, when his attention was distracted by an elderly man sitting nearby, who rose rather awkwardly to his feet, hobbled to the small dais at the end of the room opposite the bar, and rapped his walking stick hard on the floor.  “Comrades,” he began.  “I would like to propose a toast to the Comrade President, whose birthday, I need hardly remind you, is tomorrow.  I am old enough to remember the dark times before the revolution.  When I was a mere lad…”

“Several hundred years ago,” muttered Iain
sotto voce
.

“…my father worked long hours for a pittance.  We had barely enough to live on, and we went to bed hungry every night…”  He went on to elaborate – at length – on conditions long gone.  “But then,” he continued, “we rose against our oppressors, Comrades.  None of you here were old enough to fight as I did.  I was at the forefront when we stormed the parliament building.”

“Must have been where he got his brain addled,” Iain said a little less quietly.

“But I am unimportant.”

“True.”  Iain giggled.

The elderly man gave him a glare before continuing: “The Comrade President was there that day, despite his youth, and fought beside his father, who became his predecessor in that onerous post.”  He began to outline the career of the Great Man in excruciating detail, from the period when he’d taken over from his ailing predecessor.  He extolled their leader’s magnanimity as he led the Republic in the liberation of Silvana from Telphanian oppression, and his decisive and humanitarian reaction to the tragedy at Pregeor perpetrated by those envious of his benevolent touch.

Most of the Heroes bore this stoically, but Iain yawned ostentatiously before leaning over towards the girl at the next table.  “If I said you have a beautiful body, would you hold it against me?” he asked her with a leer.  She moved her chair further away from him, but he didn’t take the hint.  “That’s a gorgeous dress,” he continued, “tight in all the right places…”

The elderly man had moved on to the benefits of the enlightened rule of the Comrade President.  “Unlike the poor people of Telphania, we have full employment…”

“If you like being told what to do,” Iain said to the girl.

“…good food…”

Iain grimaced.  “If you don’t taste it.”

“…cheap and plentiful public transport…”

“But nothing worth visiting.”  Iain tried unsuccessfully to raise an eyebrow.

Tanya and Bartes looked at each other in exasperation.  “Can’t you stop him somehow?” Bartes whispered.

Tanya nodded.  She concentrated for a second or two and their inebriated companion slowly slumped in his chair.

“What’s wrong with Ivan?” Anoushka asked.

“Too much vodka,” Tanya replied as she made the unconscious man comfortable, folding his arms under his head.  He gave a loud snore and muttered something unintelligible under his breath.  From the look that Tanya gave Bartes, he guessed that she had given nature a hand.

The elderly comrade’s face had cleared when Iain lost consciousness, and he continued his toast.  He seemed to take ages to wind up, but it could only have been a few minutes.  He drew to a close with, “Comrades, I give you – the Comrade President.”

Those still conscious raised their glasses and dutifully intoned, “The Comrade President,” and drank.

The girl at the next table got up and walked off toward the telephone.  Bartes felt that Iain had said rather too much to her, so he left his seat and intercepted her.  “Please ignore my drunken friend,” he said.  “He tends to say stupid things when he’s had too much vodka.  Here, let me buy you a drink.”

She ignored his overtures and walked past him, so he put his hand on her arm.  “Let me go,” she said, “or I’ll charge you with interfering with me in pursuit of my duty.  I am a security sergeant, and I have a report to make to my superior.”

“Isn’t Major Drovsorsky your superior?”

“I’m a personal aide to Captain Reynard, and she sent me here to keep an eye on you Heroes – and on the Major.”

Bartes had half-expected something like this, so he drew in his mental strength and tried to calm her telepathically.  His facility with his newly rediscovered psionics was not as good as Tanya’s, however, and his target’s shielding was very effective.  She turned to him, her eyes flashing, and he’d braced himself for a painful riposte when he heard Major Valentine’s voice behind him. “What seems to be the matter, Sergeant?” he asked.

”I have a report to make, Major,” she asserted, though there was a slight tremor in her voice.

“Surely nothing happened of any importance.”

She hesitated, before saying, with some reluctance, “No, nothing happened of any importance.”  Her face went blank for a couple of seconds, and then she smiled at Bartes.  “I’m sorry, Comrade Hero,” she said, “What were we talking about?”

“I was about to offer to buy you a drink as a way of apologising for the boorish behaviour of my drunken friend.”

“I’d like that, Comrade,” she said with a smile.  He guided her to the bar and bought her a large vodka.

Having used her psionics to slow the blood flow to Iain’s brain just enough to induce unconsciousness, Tanya was still hungry, despite the substantial meal she had just eaten.  She beckoned the waiter over.

“Could I have another portion of brandy pudding, please?” she asked him.

“Think of your figure, Comrade Talia,” Major Valentine said archly.  “We can’t have Heroes of the Republic becoming overweight.”

“Oh dear,” she said in mock concern.  “Do you think I look obese?”  She smoothed her dress down over her waist and wiggled her hips.

“Well, no –”

“And I
am
still a little empty.  I’ll just do a bit more exercise tomorrow, that’s all.”

“Well, I’d like something more to eat as well,” he said.  “And I’ll have some brandy pudding too, please, waiter.”

“Very well, sir.”

“But if we’re going to gorge ourselves, Comrade, we ought to do some light exercise now to offset the effect of the food.  Do you feel up to a little gentle dancing?”  A small band had replaced the elderly comrade who had proposed the toast, and had begun playing dance tunes.

“I’d like that very much.”  She stood up and took his hand.

For such a big man, the Major was light on his feet, and moved with precision and elegance.  When the music stopped, as he led Tanya back towards their table, she said, “You dance exquisitely.”

“Thank you,” he replied.  “And so do you.”  She shook her head deprecatingly.  “But now, before we re-join the others, I have a request for you.”

“Oh?”             

“For Mercy’s sake, please try to keep control of your companions.  I don’t want to live through this another time.  And keeping people from noticing all your
faux pas
is giving me a headache.”

He knows,
Tanya thought, and in her confusion, nearly tripped over her own feet as the Major helped her to her chair.  Leaving her to her perplexity, he addressed RD: “So, Comrade, I gather that you intend to race your catamaran while you’re here?”

“Hopefully – if it’s safe,” RD replied.

“I’ll do my best to make sure it is.”

“Peter and I want to watch the hovercart races,” Joseph added.

“I’ll try to find you a secure vantage point,” the Major said.

“If it’s that secure, we won’t be able to see much.”

“Don’t worry – I’ll get you some binoculars if necessary.”  Bartes and Tanya exchanged speculative glances – that could prove useful.

She pondered the Major’s words: did they mean that he was on their side? Or were they a trap, intended to get her to give herself away?  She wasn’t in the mood to take any more risks, though, so she kept off the topic as the evening ended and they set of for their new residence.

“That’s odd,” Bartes said as they approached the dacha along the lakeside road.

“What is?” RD asked.

Tanya saw what he meant.  “There are lights on in the dacha, and I can hear music.  I’m positive we switched everything off.  Could it be your men, Major?”

“No, they’ve explicit instructions not to invade your privacy,” he replied.  “I think it’s another guest.”  He was quite correct: when they entered the dacha, lounging on a sofa, right leg hooked over its arm and a large vodka in his hand, was John D’Arcy.

“John!” Anoushka cried and, unaware of her blunder, ran over to him.

He drew himself to his feet and put his arms around her in an affectionate embrace.  “Hello, Anna, everyone – it’s good to see you,” he said as the others joined their enthusiastic greetings to Anoushka’s – apart from Iain, that is – he nodded vaguely at John, slumped into a chair and promptly fell asleep.

“Welcome to Lake Kuraken, Comrade Davidov,” the Major said.  “I’m afraid you missed a superb meal.  I’ll leave your companions to bring you up to date.  I have to get back to Restavic City to make my report, but rest assured I’ll check that your guards are all in place and fully alert before I depart.  I’ll be back in the morning.”

They bade him farewell, but once he’d left, Tanya turned to Joseph.  “You and Peter had better go to bed, Josef,” she said.

“But –” Joseph began rather resentfully.

She was in no mood for an argument.  “Remember what I said earlier,” she reminded him.  “Anyway, you’ve had enough excitement for one day.”

“Very well,” he said grudgingly, and stamped away with Peter in his train.

She turned to the newcomer and said, “It
is
good to see you, Johan.  We haven’t seen you for ages.”

“Don’t you mean John?” he whispered in her ear.  “After all, it’s what Anna called me, didn’t she?”

“So you know who you are.”

“Yes,” he said aloud.  “It’s about time you lot woke up – again.  And anyway, you saw me a couple of days ago.”

“What do you mean?”  Tanya looked perplexed, but then her face cleared.  “It was you in that jet, wasn’t it – the one that saved us from the mortar attack.”

“Guilty as charged – though RD seemed to be doing a good job of keeping you alive.”

“It was only a matter of time…  If you hadn’t come along…” RD grasped John’s forearm.  “Thank you.”

The two girls threw their arms around John and held him tight.  “Whoa!” he said.  “Don’t smother me.”

“I
knew
I’d seen that gesture before,” Tanya said.  “It was our team’s ‘All clear’ signal, wasn’t it?”

“Wait a minute,” RD whispered.  “We can’t talk about this here – the room must be bugged.”

“It is,” John said, “but I moved the radio so it’s on top of the microphone.  Whoever’s listening has heard nothing from this room but government-sponsored music and propaganda since I got here.  And there’s only one mini-cam in here, over in the top left corner as you enter the room, so as long as we’re careful we can prevent anyone watching from reading our lips.”

“Clever”, Tanya said.  “When did you regain your memory?”

“A long time back.  Do you remember what happened the last time we tried to escape?”

“No,” Bartes said.  “I don’t think any of us realised we
had
.”

“I did,” Tanya said, “or rather I’ve been told we had, indirectly.”

“What do you mean?” Bartes asked.

“I didn’t want to say anything while we could be overheard,” she said, “but as the Major and I finished dancing together, back at the restaurant, he said something like, ‘For Mercy’s sake, please try to keep control of your friends.  I don’t want to live through this again.’  He also said that keeping people from noticing our mistakes was giving him a headache.”

“Do you think that his use of the word ‘Mercy’ was significant?” Bartes asked.

“From the way he said it, I’m positive.  And intimating that we tried to escape before was a quite deliberate move on his part.  I was just scared it was a trap.”

Bartes shook his head slowly.  “No.  Given who he is, he could have had us all brainwashed on the slightest pretext.  And now I think about it, it’s probable that he’s covered up our blunders on more than one occasion – such as Anoushka’s little mistake when we met John tonight.”

“What mistake?” Anoushka looked at him in surprise.

“You called him by his real name when we’re supposed to think he’s Johan Davidov,”

“Oh!”  She put her fingers to her lips in dismay.  “I’m so sorry.”

“Don’t worry.  Just be a bit more careful in future – the Major may not be able to ignore it next time.  You know, the more I think about it, the more I become convinced that he wants us to escape.”

“I agree with you,” John said.  “They couldn’t prove that I was part of our last escape attempt, but I’m pretty sure that the Major knew I was involved, and prevented them from re-programming me.”

“What actually happened?” Bartes asked.

“Well, to cut a long story short, we’d planned for you to take the place of a family of tourists on a spaceliner that was about to leave the system.  I was waiting in the Skyport to shuttle you up to the ship, but when the alarms went off, I realised that the game was up.  Fortunately, I managed to persuade Major Valentine that my presence was a coincidence – though Captain Reynard was
very
suspicious.

“You were captured, interrogated and reprogrammed, though I was told a cover story: that you’d been on a visit to the ’port when there’d been an incident which had traumatised you all, bringing back your memories of Pregeor.  They even arranged a suitable accident.  The next time we met, you’d forgotten who you really are again.”

“Why didn’t they reprogram you, too?” RD asked.

“I was certain that they would, but you must have managed to keep my involvement secret.  As it was, I was called in later for a ‘check-up’, and the doctors recommended some ‘treatment’, but Major Valentine vetoed it, saying that I was too vital to the operation of the Skyport to spare the time.  Now you must bring me up to speed on all that’s happened to you.”

They brought John up to date with their own adventures, concluding with the incident at the restaurant.  When they mentioned how the Major had dealt with Reynard’s agent, John said, “That just backs up Tanya’s conclusion that he wants us to escape.”

“Well, from what he said about our ‘protection’, I don’t think escape is an option yet,” RD said.  “Let’s see if there’s any information we can use in here.”  He picked up the folder provided by the Bureau of Tourism and shared out its contents.

“Dammit,” Bartes said eventually.  “There are no maps or guides to the area among all this bumf – nothing that looks at all helpful.  I don’t think we’ll get any further tonight – we ought to get some sleep.”

“I don’t want to go to bed,” Anoushka said.  “I feel safer when we’re all together.”

“Couldn’t we sleep in here?” Tanya said.  “Iain’s already well away, and we could make things reasonably comfortable.”

“All right,” RD said.  “We’ll do it for Anoushka’s sake – the Major couldn’t take exception to that.   But I think it would be a good idea if some of us just kept watch – you never know what we might learn.”

“You and Bartes are on the first watch,” RD said quietly to Tanya as they were making themselves comfortable.  “Wake John and me in a couple of hours.”

Tanya settled down opposite Bartes and relaxed.  It wasn’t hard to pretend to be asleep – it was more difficult not doing it for real.  In fact, Tanya might have already dozed off when she was roused by a scraping sound out from the direction of the kitchen.  It was followed by a crash and a yelp, and a muffled voice that she didn’t recognise said: “What the Hell is this ice doing on the ladder?  I think I broke my ankle!”

She opened her eyes and looked at Bartes – he, too, was aware of the kerfuffle.  She raised an eyebrow slightly.  She didn’t dare communicate telepathically in case one of their guards was a ‘sniffer’, but he understood her meaning, and shook his head slightly to indicate caution.  They waited for what seemed to be an eternity while they listened to a distant discussion.  They couldn’t make out any words, but it seemed pretty agitated.  It finished, and after a long silence they heard the muffled sound of an engine starting somewhere along the road to the north.  It grew louder before passing outside the dacha and disappearing in the direction of the town.

It seemed that they might have an opportunity to check out “below stairs”, so Tanya reached out carefully with her mind, ready to draw back if necessary.  She detected the thoughts of only one person below, and his beta wave activity was at a low ebb, as if he were half asleep.  She waited until he lost consciousness, before raising her eyebrow again to Bartes.  She felt him reach out himself to check her findings, and they were clearly confirmed, for this time he nodded his head.

They got to their feet as silently as they could and made their way towards the kitchen.  As quiet as they were, they woke Joseph as they passed his room.  “Where are you going?” he muttered sleepily.  Tanya put her finger to her lips and beckoned for him to follow.

When they convened in the kitchen, he’d shaken off his drowsiness and when they told him what had happened, he was keen to be involved.  “I’ll follow your orders to the letter, and I’ll be as quiet as a silenced pistol,” he assured them.

“All right, but first, go and rouse John – quietly! – and tell him what we’re doing.”

“Why?”

“So no-one will raise the alarm accidentally if they wake and find us missing.  Anyway, Bartes and I are trained for this sort of situation, so we should go first and check what’s down below.  And try and keep out of sight of the camera in the living room as much as possible.  It’s in the top left corner as you enter.”

He frowned, then shrugged.  “OK – as long as I can join you down there afterwards.”

“Very well – but be careful.  From what we’ve heard, there’s ice on the ladder, and we don’t want you to slip and break something – or alert our jailers.”

“Why let him get involved?” Bartes said after the boy departed.

“It’s always better to keep loose cannons under supervision,” Tanya said.

They raised the trapdoor and carefully climbed down the iron ladder.  It was very cold below, and RD’s earlier spillage had frozen on the rungs, making the descent really treacherous.  They found themselves at one end of a short corridor illuminated by emergency lighting and lined with cables and rubber pipes.  The pipes were attached to large gas cylinders at one end, and had valves to distribute the gas to each and every room in the dacha above.  There were three cylinders: one green, one blue and one black with a skull and crossbones on it.