been dismissed from my command.”
“Just as you expected.”
“Yes.”
“You’re still a serving officer in the navy?”
“Yes, I am. They didn’t take that away. Not yet.”
“That’s clever of them, Admiral. It means you’re still subject to military discipline. No matter, will you come to Peria? There’s someone you need to listen to, and it could throw a lot of light on what’s gone wrong since the war ended.”
“Very well. I’ll use my personal ground car.”
They assembled in the living room of Biermann’s house, Max, Rusal, Evelyn Gluck and Blas. Max jumped slightly at a knock at the door. He grinned as he went to answer it.
“I thought this conspiracy stuff was in the past. I’m too old for all of this secrecy.”
When he came back into the living room there were two men with him. One was middle-aged, perhaps the same as Max. The other man looked to be a hundred years old, gaunt and emaciated. His face betrayed a hard life; his hair was unkempt and very long, as was his beard. His skin was dark from the sun and more like that of an agricultural laborer, but it was also etched with the creases of constant anxiety. His clothes were no more than rags, only to be expected of the escaped prisoner Max Biermann had mentioned. He’d clearly been one of Pieter Bose’s slave workers, and they all shuddered to see the physical damage that working in the plantations could do to a man. Max made the introductions, first, the middle aged man.
“This is my good friend, Karn Vansen.”
They all shook hands, but they waited to be introduced to the other man, curious as to his identity. Max asked him to join them.
“Please, my friend, would you tell them your story?”
When he spoke, his voice seemed strangely familiar. “I was on Arcadia I, before the Axians renamed it Axis Nova. It was at the end of the war and we’d just taken the planet. Something happened and I blacked out. Perhaps someone hit me or I was drugged. When I came to I was in the brig of some kind of spacecraft. They kept a dark hood over my head. When the ship landed they took the hood off but they wore masks so that I couldn’t see their faces. They gave me food and drink, but it must have been drugged because I entered a long period of hallucinations.”
Blas, Rusal and Evelyn exchanged glances. They felt sorry for the man, for he was obviously a mental case with his talk of hallucinations. It appeared that Max had invited a lunatic into his house, so why was he giving the man a platform to speak? They had much more important tasks to work on. Blas was disappointed. After the story that Evelyn had told them, he’d hoped that this could be Xerxes Tell. This man looked nothing like him, but the story hadn’t ended. The man went on.
“After that they forced me to wear the hood day and night. I was only allowed to take it off when I ate my food, which was in solitary confinement. Later, they cut holes in the hood so that I could see what I was doing, but obviously no one could recognize me. They must have continued with the drugs because the hallucinations kept returning. I was forced to work cutting burlash on a plantation, always on my own, and a good distance from the other prisoners who worked the fields. I worked day after day, week after week, without a break from dawn to dusk. At night I was locked into my solitary cell. No one told me why they had kidnapped and imprisoned me, although the reason was obvious. Two days ago the guard made a mistake. The lock on my cell door failed to engage properly and I managed to escape. I made contact with Mr. Vansen, who hid me and brought me here so that I could tell you my story.”
They were mystified. Rusal walked over to study his face intently. “Your voice is familiar Sir, but I can’t place it. Your face and your bearing. I’m certain I’ve seen you before, but I don’t know where. Who are you?”
He looked at each of them in turn. Blas was struck with a growing
“Just as you expected.”
“Yes.”
“You’re still a serving officer in the navy?”
“Yes, I am. They didn’t take that away. Not yet.”
“That’s clever of them, Admiral. It means you’re still subject to military discipline. No matter, will you come to Peria? There’s someone you need to listen to, and it could throw a lot of light on what’s gone wrong since the war ended.”
“Very well. I’ll use my personal ground car.”
They assembled in the living room of Biermann’s house, Max, Rusal, Evelyn Gluck and Blas. Max jumped slightly at a knock at the door. He grinned as he went to answer it.
“I thought this conspiracy stuff was in the past. I’m too old for all of this secrecy.”
When he came back into the living room there were two men with him. One was middle-aged, perhaps the same as Max. The other man looked to be a hundred years old, gaunt and emaciated. His face betrayed a hard life; his hair was unkempt and very long, as was his beard. His skin was dark from the sun and more like that of an agricultural laborer, but it was also etched with the creases of constant anxiety. His clothes were no more than rags, only to be expected of the escaped prisoner Max Biermann had mentioned. He’d clearly been one of Pieter Bose’s slave workers, and they all shuddered to see the physical damage that working in the plantations could do to a man. Max made the introductions, first, the middle aged man.
“This is my good friend, Karn Vansen.”
They all shook hands, but they waited to be introduced to the other man, curious as to his identity. Max asked him to join them.
“Please, my friend, would you tell them your story?”
When he spoke, his voice seemed strangely familiar. “I was on Arcadia I, before the Axians renamed it Axis Nova. It was at the end of the war and we’d just taken the planet. Something happened and I blacked out. Perhaps someone hit me or I was drugged. When I came to I was in the brig of some kind of spacecraft. They kept a dark hood over my head. When the ship landed they took the hood off but they wore masks so that I couldn’t see their faces. They gave me food and drink, but it must have been drugged because I entered a long period of hallucinations.”
Blas, Rusal and Evelyn exchanged glances. They felt sorry for the man, for he was obviously a mental case with his talk of hallucinations. It appeared that Max had invited a lunatic into his house, so why was he giving the man a platform to speak? They had much more important tasks to work on. Blas was disappointed. After the story that Evelyn had told them, he’d hoped that this could be Xerxes Tell. This man looked nothing like him, but the story hadn’t ended. The man went on.
“After that they forced me to wear the hood day and night. I was only allowed to take it off when I ate my food, which was in solitary confinement. Later, they cut holes in the hood so that I could see what I was doing, but obviously no one could recognize me. They must have continued with the drugs because the hallucinations kept returning. I was forced to work cutting burlash on a plantation, always on my own, and a good distance from the other prisoners who worked the fields. I worked day after day, week after week, without a break from dawn to dusk. At night I was locked into my solitary cell. No one told me why they had kidnapped and imprisoned me, although the reason was obvious. Two days ago the guard made a mistake. The lock on my cell door failed to engage properly and I managed to escape. I made contact with Mr. Vansen, who hid me and brought me here so that I could tell you my story.”
They were mystified. Rusal walked over to study his face intently. “Your voice is familiar Sir, but I can’t place it. Your face and your bearing. I’m certain I’ve seen you before, but I don’t know where. Who are you?”
He looked at each of them in turn. Blas was struck with a growing
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