The Broken Cage (Solstice 31 Saga Book 2) (31 page)

His shackled hands were still in front of him, but a metal bar was threaded through, in front of his elbows, behind his back, and lashed to his arms, like a scarecrow. These both immobilized his arms and gave the guards easy handles to control him.

Guards crowded his cell, and when they dragged him out, there were more in the corridor. Barcus looked into their faces, each in turn. They were all afraid.

Barcus clenched his jaw against the pain and raised himself to his full height. Before they managed to get the group all the way to the end of the long corridor, an arm shot out of a cell that had a wall of bars only. Guards recoiled from the prisoner, almost dropping Barcus, as he leaned against the bars. A hand came to rest on Barcus’s shoulder.

“Tell Wex that it will be all right. I’m so very tired. But, it’s almost over. I want her to know. Finally. I understand.”

A filthy face was pressed against the bars. A long, steel gray beard hid what may have once been a handsome face. His eyes were bright.

Barcus knew. It was him. “Wex said to tell you, the cage is broken.”

The man started to laugh. It was a laugh of pure joy with not a touch of insanity. This seemed to make the guards even more afraid.

As they dragged Barcus away, he heard the guards whispering in Common Tongue, “That was him.”

Another said, “Seventeen years and no food, no water.”

Another whispered, “The prophet.”

He was corrected, “…The scarecrow.”

Barcus was dragged ahead and limped into the darkness. He was the only one that noticed the small naked girl, smiling eerily in the corner.

No one but her saw the Scarecrow’s cell door silently open or the last remaining guard quietly die.

***

Po slammed a magazine into the Colt AR-79 rifle and racked the slide. She wore a black flight suit, a tactical vest full of extra mags, for both the AR and her suppressed Glock handguns that were now in a thigh holsters.

She tossed a black tabard over that and tied a black cord around her waist. She added the cloak over that and lifted out the helmet, but did not put it on.

“Po, you need to strap in, now. It’s going to get steep when we leave the road,” AI~Em said, from her seat.

Po heard her heart in her ears. Everything seemed to slow. Her mind quieted, as the fear withdrew.

The EM ran in full canopy mode. When they left the road, it was impossibly steep. She pressed into her seat as they ascended a near vertical section of the mountain. The road was left below them, but she now saw, in the enhanced darkness, where the road went. There was a single, massive gate with a long, bridge. A single guard and a small girl walked over the bridge and down the road to Exeter. Po was sure the guard looked directly up at her in the darkness but there was no way he saw them. He made no reaction.

Sheer walls rose on each side, and there were turrets in the towers that flanked the gate.

They were not getting in that way.

The EM reached the sharp ridged edge. It traveled without effort, thanks to the eight legs, and even the two arms that hung below, helped them approach the Citadel.

Po didn’t know that Em targeted the specific balcony that belonged to Mason. The decadent, wide veranda had plenty of room for the EM to rest there.

AI~Em’s avatar was on her feet and, with a gesture, was suddenly dressed like Po, minus the guns.

Olias was on his feet. Awaiting instructions.

AI~Em spoke directly to him, “Olias, I need you to stay here with Peace, while we find Barcus.”

Peace undocked and turned to the ramp.

Po asked, “Shouldn’t we take Peace?”

AI~Em gave a wicked grin, and said, “You should start thinking of another name. HMS-41 has been detected. The High Keeper has, apparently, found another maintenance suit.”

***

As the group walked quickly through the halls of Ronan’s estate, slaves fell to their knees, like dominos.

Ronan must have runners within the walls because he came out of a side corridor and fell into step with them.

“What’s happened?” he asked, directly.

“Something went wrong at the Flask and Anvil.” Jimbo stopped, and the group stopped, in formation. Worthington recognized the hall to Ronan’s private quarters. “Barcus is in the Citadel. He thinks the High Keeper has the codes and will use the planet-facing defense grid. Barcus is going to try and stop him.”

“With Wex, I knew it,” Ronan added, flatly, then turned and ran to his private quarters.

The guards had the doors open for him before he got there, and he was rapidly, and quietly, talking to Ro when they caught up.

Ronan went back to the door guards, and said, looking at each in turn, “Dale, Eric. Shuttle evac, now.”

There were no questions. Dale ran out into the estate, Eric ran into the suite.

As they walked away from the suite, they heard Ro’s raised voice, “Leave it!”

***

Po followed AI~Em as she moved through the beautiful apartment. Her boots crunched on the glass in the foyer that was the remains of a fragile glass statue. She froze at the sound. The suppressed Glock in her hands pointed down.

There was a window open in her HUD that saw what the AI~Em BUGs saw as she looked around corners and hallways.

AI~Em was just about to ascend a broad staircase when she winked out in a flash of static.

Just a voice came to her. “Po, my name is Chen. Barcus told you about me. There is something very wrong with Em. Trust yourself.  Save Barcus.”

“He told me you were dead,” Po said.

“Don’t trust anyone. Not even me. Only yourself. The time…” She was cut off.

There was another burst of static, and AI~Em was halfway up the flight of stairs.

“Em, where are we going?” Po asked, worried.

“Barcus is in the High Council chambers. We must hurry.”

Em rounded a corner, and there were two guards there. They didn’t see AI~Em, but AI~Em directed Po where to ready herself, and she activated the automated targeting systems in the helmet and her suppressed handguns. She had one in each hand now.

They each fell from a bullet in the head, never suspecting.

It continued like this, up additional levels.

***

Just as the
Sedna
cleared the hangar, it moved toward the Citadel at high speed. Active scans saw the ship long in advance.

“I bet that’s the same piece of shit that bombed Whitehall Abbey. Killed those innocent people,” Cook said, out loud as he accelerated directly toward it.

“Within EMP range in five seconds,” Muir called out, his desire clear.

Cook waited eight seconds. “Fire.”

The shuttle fell, and skipped like a stone as it crashed into the lake.

“Recharge the cannon and I want three EMP passes on the Citadel,”

Cook ordered. “I hate this planet.”

***

Barcus was dragged into the High Council chambers and forced onto his knees on the floor in the center of a huge, ornate, horseshoe-shaped table. His hands remained, cruelly, tied with leather. The feeling was already gone. The pain in his leg made him see spots.

The bag was removed from his head, and the gag was untied from his mouth.

The room was lit, primarily by candlelight. A horseshoe-shaped table that surrounded him had an artful trench down the center of it, filled solid with fat, white candles. Looking around the room, he saw there were a dozen guards on a raised walkway along the walls above, and behind, the Keepers. It made a clean line of fire to where Barcus knelt.

There were ten men, sitting around the table, looking down at him. The table was elevated. A few of the seats were empty.

Barcus looked around the room. He counted at least seven guards with plasma rifles. He gave a double take to the maintenance suit, standing in the corner like a dark, forgotten suit of armor.


We're coming, Barcus.
” It was Po, whispering into his mind.

Barcus knew AI~Em could see what he saw. So, he stared at the damaged maintenance suit for a while, as well as the guards.

“So, this is the man from Earth I have heard so much about,” the High Keeper said, in a bored, disinterested voice. “I should thank you. Life around here has been so dreary for the last few decades.”

“Barcus, remote access to Suit 41 has been established. Powering up now,”
AI~Em said to Barcus.

“I can't help but wonder why you risked coming here,” the High Keeper said, as the door opened behind him.

A hard-looking tracker dragged Wex in by her braided hair, and threw her down beside him. Her hands were free.

“Ahhhh. This explains much.” The High Keeper smiled now, and for the first time, seemed interested. “The demon woman has seduced you into doing her bidding. She thinks she can get anything she wants. Evil. Pure evil. This one.”

Barcus spit blood onto the floor before he spoke. “I never met this woman before today.” His attempt to protect her was too obvious.

“This is no mere woman.” The High Keeper chuckled.

“Barcus. We are ascending the last stair flight now,”
AI~Em said, in his head.

“Be ready, my Lord, stay down,” Wex whispered.

She was on her knees. Her face was held to the floor by the soldier.

“We're almost there, Barcus. Look around the room one more time. When it starts, lay down flat,”
AI~Em said.

“I will never understand the desire of men to lay down their lives for something as useless and as weak as a woman, even this one. Especially, a man like you. I could have made you a god on this planet.”

The High Keeper stood up and walked around on the left side of the U-shaped table.

“I could have given you a new woman, every day, for the rest of your life, if your drives were so inclined. In retrospect, I should have offered you everything above the gorge, just to make sure these vermin didn’t spread there, again, uncontrollably.”

The High Keeper rounded the end of the table and moved to the top of the arch, leaning on the table in front of his seat like a keystone. He lifted Barcus’s Glock from the table.

“Were you sent here? Tell me the truth, and I may yet let you live. Did the Chancellor of Earth send you? Because that was not our deal.” He crossed his arms over his belly, still holding the gun, casually. He then looked at the other Keepers of the counsel. “Did any of them put you up to it?”

Barcus spoke through clenched teeth, in a near whisper, “I am no one. I'm just a third shift maintenance guy from a long haul survey ship. I fell to the surface of this planet as debris. I’ve been still falling, one way or another, ever since.”

“The Chancellor cannot have it both ways. I hold what cannot be held. He has always been so afraid that these two would escape. So, we crippled everything, locked the cell and tossed the key. He helps me with my experiments and I let him throw his enemies into my trap. Now and then.”

It happened fast, and all at once.

The guard holding Wex dragged her up by her braid to kneel next to Barcus.

The High Keeper suddenly shot them both in the gut, one after the other.

It rocked him back onto his heels, but he didn’t fall. Wex barely reacted.

“So, it’s true. You are NOT one of them, Man from Earth,” the High Keeper said, sounding disappointed.

They all sensed a
whomp
in the air and the perimeter lights went out.

“Barcus, we are here,” Cook said, in his HUD. “Coming back around.”

Adrenaline poured into his blood. Barcus said, through gritted, bloody teeth, “Want to see some
real
magic?” He smiled.

The maintenance suit suddenly came alive, swung an arm, and splashed the nearest guard’s head open against the wall as he checked his, now dead, plasma rifle. The guards were distracted by the black statue that had suddenly come to life.

The door crashed open, and a black fury came in, firing as she turned, Glocks in each hand, a spinning fountain of automatic targeting death. All the guards fell dead, including the one still holding Wex’s braid.

Two rounds hit Po in her chest armor. Before the High Keeper could turn the gun on Barcus again, Po fired at him, shattering the High Keeper's elbow.

He dropped the gun and stumbled back into the table.

Po walked slowly towards the High Keeper and stopped. Wex freed Barcus, sliding the bar out from his elbows.

Po looked at the men seated. “I remember you.” Po shot one in the face. “And you.” She shot another. The suit walked up behind her. Po was more frightening to the men than the suit. “And you…” She didn’t shoot this one.

She took off her helmet. Seeing her, they were frozen in their seats. She was their worst nightmare. A man on the other side of the table got up and ran. She sprayed death at them all, and shot him in the back.

She paused over him, trying to drag himself away, “Remember me? On the lori cart? The anvil?” She shot him in the head.

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