Prince Ventar of Trun, page 1
Prince Ventar of Trun
A K Lambert
Contents
Introduction
Prologue
I. The Boy
1. Chapter 1 - In Search of the Enemy
2. Chapter 2 - Three Cities
3. Chapter 3 - The Boy, Day 1
4. Chapter 4 - Mandy, Jon & Krankel
5. Chapter 5 - The Flight of the Bucket
6. Chapter 6 - The Boy, Day 2
7. Chapter 7 - Mancer’s Return
8. Chapter 8 - Bellog Space
II. The Calm before the Storm
9. Chapter 9 - Bess’s Torment
10. Chapter 10 - Gobbler’s Travels
11. Chapter 11 - Mind Games
12. Chapter 12 - The Plans
13. Chapter 13 - Finding Zerot
14. Chapter 14 - The Rescue
15. Chapter 15 - The Penumbra Device
16. Chapter 16 - The Sin Brothers
17. Chapter 17 - Preenasette’s Moons
18. Chapter 18 - A Mission for Jon & Mandy
19. Chapter 19 - The Varr Society
20. Chapter 20 - Washington
III. The Ten-Day War
21. Chapter 21 - Pesky Little Ones
22. Chapter 22 - The Crossing Ceremony
23. Chapter 23 - The Assessor
24. Chapter 24 - A Visit to Beckling
25. Chapter 25 - Ralphic’s Loneliness
26. Chapter 26 - The Pirate Trail
27. Chapter 27 - The Ten-Day War
28. Chapter 28 - The Ten-Day War
29. Chapter 29 - The Ten-Day War
30. Chapter 30 - The Ten-Day War
31. Chapter 31 - The Aftermath of the War
32. Chapter 32 - Nigel
33. Chapter 33 - The Return to Zerot
Epilogue
Maps & Structures
Future
Introduction
A message from the author.
* * *
At the rear of this book is a list of the character locations at the end of Book Two. Also, there are maps of Preenasette. If you require an additional electronic copy of these maps for greater clarity, email me on aklambert@mail.com
A K Lambert
Prologue
Japanese Honey Bees
The Japanese honey bees are not as gullible as their European cousins.
When a giant hornet appears on their doorstep they back away into the nest – inviting him to enter. When he does, he is surrounded and smothered by about five hundred of them. They vibrate their wings, producing heat, creating a small convection oven, and when the temperature reaches 47° C, the hornet dies. The bees, however, can withstand temperatures up to 50° C, and so survive.
The hornet cannot release its pheromones to alert the others, and the bees remain undetected.
Dorrikk
Jerbbekk scrutinized his small room one last time. Satisfied, he looked outside, hoping to catch sight of Zumther, and almost opened the door into him.
‘Sorry, Zumther,’ he said to the old guard, carrying out his final pass of the J4 residential huddle – a mass of tiny living spaces for Jay workers.
‘Are you trying to shock me into an early grave?’ he replied. ‘Get inside and stay there, Jerbbekk, unless you want a caution.’
Jerbbekk cowered and retreated into his room, closing the door. He slipped a thin rubber wedge in between the two segments of the maglock just before the door closed, ensuring he wasn’t locked in. A short while later Brack entered, taking care to replace the wedge. When Dorrikk arrived, they bowed, and each took her hand, kissing the third talon.
Jerbbekk crawled into the robes closet and activated a secret panel, allowing access into the room beyond. His two friends followed. A small table with four chairs was set up in the centre of the room, with an unfinished game of Callebaut laid out. If the guards ever found this room, they would assume it was a gambling den and issue a harsh reprimand, but the friends’ real intentions carried a death sentence. Dorrikk moved the pieces of the game away while Brack activated hidden levers that released the wall panels, revealing walls crammed full of maps of their underground world.
The Luna meeting of the clandestine Varr Society was in session.
Part I
The Boy
Chapter 1 - In Search of the Enemy
In Search of the Enemy
Follow the Crumbs
* * *
THE CAST:
Searcher Ralphic Carrind, Searcher Flaverack Carrind
* * *
Ralphic and Flaverack strolled hand in hand through the sweet grass of this strange unnamed planet in the Vorderi system, the sun gently warming them. It felt luxurious underfoot. Two flattened tracks in the grass marked the route down into the valley, to their ships.
‘That isn’t another of those large popularpods, is it?’ asked Ralphic. ‘I heard something crying out.’
‘Perhaps,’ replied Flaverack, ‘but they are a long way away. They don’t stray far from those violet-coloured trees; they find them much more interesting than us.’
‘I hope so,’ said Ralphic, moving closer to her mate and putting her arm around his slim waist, the two tracks becoming one. ‘Must we go? It’s only been three weeks, and I do enjoy being here with you.’
‘So do I. But there will be other stops.’
Flaverack didn’t understand her joy. Many of his mate’s whimsical moments were strange to him and curious to everyone on Gemini 7. That and her fiercely vocal opinions within the hive mind, continually challenging the consensus position, made her an oddity on her world. But he loved her, even if he didn’t quite understand her. And, as skilled as she was at her job, the main reason they were given this task was to give the hive mind some respite.
Ralphic’s head bobbed in the breeze, rippling the sensory receptors on the spikes adorning her head. Flaverack barely felt it, the ability a remnant from early evolution days – necessary to detect the odour of the snorting Drooge Hog that preyed on them. This sense was acute in his mate. Her beautiful bulbous eyes flicked open, lighting up her crimson face. She pretended to check for afternoon rainclouds, but she was studying him one last time before their imminent separation. He might not have understood her fiery temper, but loved her ways and adored her. He never felt that from anyone else – they were always wrapped up in the hive mind.
The rain came, right on time, and for twenty-three minutes they enjoyed having their worries washed away. After, they let the warm sun and the wind dry them.
They put their transit suits back on, hugged each other, and boarded their ships. They would be physically separated for a long time, but a hive mind of two was always together. The spacecraft took off and began their slow journey to escape the planet’s gravity and atmosphere. Ralphic located the magnetised crumbs emitted by the tracker clamped to the flagship of the departing Zerot armada. She laid in a course and with her mate, carried on their long journey.
Their tracker vessels were not fast ships – their journey between wormholes slower than the Zerot’s, added years to their mission. The decaying magnetised particles were getting harder to follow, especially near wormholes with their shifting nature. But his mate with her dogged tracking talents would find them.
They weren’t far from the next wormhole and glided safely through it. Following a short search for the diminishing crumbs, realisation struck.
They had found Zerot.
Chapter 2 - Three Cities
Three Cities
Two
* * *
THE CAST:
High Commander Kam Major, Commander Joellen Grainter, Cravin, Domantry Zander, Jacall Raspp, Benja Jacob, Major Tang, Prince Ventar
* * *
High Commander Kam Major and Commander Joellen Grainter were in the taverna drinking their third beer. Neither drank beer by choice, mulled wine being their preferred tipple, and never when working, but tonight it was part of a plan. Advancement in technology over the ages had seen all sorts of bars and drinking establishments come and go, but the taverna lingered, even if it was considered retro nowadays. The theme of tacky seating and decor, tables made from the knotted wood of the boron tree, poor lighting, and no music of any description, lived on here, along with beers and ales made by traditional processes from centuries ago.
‘This is the obvious place Zander would return to,’ whispered Kam Major, ‘what with his garrison placement. It would be the natural place for friends rallying to his cause to meet.’
‘So we put a few noses out of joint, throw some slander about him around, flush out his followers and hope they lead us to him rather than beat the crap out of us?’ Grainter smiled. ‘Good plan, boss!’
‘Your idea, Commander, or have you forgotten so quickly?’
‘Not one of my best.’
‘Assuming he’s alive, he’s done a good job of staying hidden.’
They were in Two, the second of the towns that made up Three Cities. Their actual names were Wonford, Cantingtoo, and Threep, until someone in the distant past learnt to count.
‘You ready?’
He nodded.
‘Don’t forget your best northern Trun dialect.’
Kam Major stood up, deliberately knocking her chair over in the process, eyes ripping into Grainter. ‘Zander a hero? He was a coward and deserved to die. Say that to me again, and you’ll feel my wrath.’
Grainter, on his feet, leant towards her, flats of his hands on the table. ‘He was a hero. No, is a hero, as he’s alive.’ Graint
They had the attention of the whole room. One disrespecting Zander and the other insisting he was alive. Things only ever whispered about in Three Cities, never like this. Three rather large male Trun approached them. ‘You are too loud, strangers,’ the largest told them in a menacing tone. ‘Perhaps you can continue this outside and let the rest of us continue our drinking, untroubled by your ranting.’
It was time for Kam Major to escalate. ‘Butt out, friend. I don’t see that this is anything to do with you. Why don’t you and your two stooges get out of my personal space?’ A challenge made for the benefit of the room. The large man wasn’t one to back down in a situation like this, and moved towards them, his intent clear.
Just as things were going to get messy, an even larger man stepped in. ‘Folks, folks,’ he said amiably, but with an authoritative undertone, ‘please respect my clientele and my establishment.’ A nod of his head to his three male customers had them backing away, disappointedly. ‘And you pair are out of here. I’ve been watching you, and I don’t tolerate such behaviour. You’re out. Follow me.’
He could be their opportunity, Kam Major decided, and she nodded to Grainter to follow him out. He led them out a rear door and into an alley, then said, ‘You’re touching on taboo subjects in this city. Leave it be, or you may meet up with someone not as tolerant as little old me.’
Here goes. ‘Listen to me. I need to speak to Supreme Commander Zander. I have information he will find vital. Can you arrange that?’
‘That’s a strange accent. Have you not listened to a word I’ve just said?’ he replied. ‘He’s dead. Died three or four years ago, go.’
‘Please,’ said Kam Major, using all of her powers of persuasion. ‘I need to speak to him. The future of our planet is at stake. My name is Kam Major. I’m High Commander of the Vercetian Military. You must have seen an image of me?’
‘She is who she says,’ Grainter cut in, having reverted to his own Vercetian accent. ‘We need to speak to him.’
The landlord of the taverna put his hand to his chin, stroking it and pondering. ‘I can’t promise anything.’ He studied them. ‘Stay here, and don’t go back inside.’ He disappeared into the taverna, leaving them propping up the wall.
Five hundred years earlier, the citizens of what was then called Threep, discovered a rich deposit of the mineral bosst in coastal caves northeast of the town. Previously only found in small deposits in the Boronton Mountains, this mineral’s usefulness was well understood, but rarely used. This new abundance came at the same time a refinery was due to be built on the coastline of Two. The planners jumped at the chance to use this super thermally efficient material, and the complex was completed, with the proud boast it would last a thousand years. A few years later, a scientist discovered that what made this material so versatile, at a microscopic level made it a killer. The refined product, named Seabosst, would release hundreds of thousands of spores if rubbed against, cut or damaged. If one spore attached itself to the inside of the lungs, slow death was certain. The buildings were deemed uninhabitable, and to avoid masses of spores entering the atmosphere it was decided to encapsulate and hermetically seal the complex. Demolition would have been a death sentence for hundreds of thousands. The building, and indeed the whole site remained empty to this day, the only visitors being the company employed to check internal air conditions twice a year. The Seabosst Folly was a ghost town – or so everybody believed.
Jacall Raspp, an air conditioning maintenance engineer, ran towards the old docks of Two, sure the information he had would be of serious interest to his boss. His arrival at the offices surprised the guard. ‘Raspp, what are you doing here?’
‘I need to see the boss,’ Raspp panted. ‘Urgently.’
The guard had a short, muffled conversation into his headphone. ‘Right-hand lift,’ he said.
Raspp entered the lift, pressed the third-floor button three times and the second once. The elevator went down for about ten seconds then opened to a corridor, stretching toward a vanishing point. He mounted the forward-facing conveyor belt, and sped towards it. He entered a massive warehouse containing stealth CUVs, Low-Sky Run-Arounds – or LSRAs – and an assortment of military vehicles. He was inside Seabosst, the inner walls long since rendered safe. He was in the heart of Zander’s Resistance.
Zander peered up quizzically as Raspp entered his office. ‘To what do I owe this visit, sergeant? I haven’t given a call to arms, and there are no faults with the Seabosst extraction systems, that I’m aware of.’ He shook his old friend’s hand, and noting his demeanour passed on any further small talk. ‘What is it?’
‘I’ve just come from the Pattern of Nine Taverna in Ferenger where I saw Kam Major. I fought her face to face at Garin Isle – I’d recognise her anywhere,’ he said. ‘Her and a man, slagging you off as bold as can be. I believe they were trying to get your attention, though it was a good act they were putting on.’
Zander was intrigued. ‘What happened to them?’
‘Squared up to some of our guys, but Cravin, the landlord, intervened and escorted them out the back way.’
Zander’s decision was instant. ‘Captain Myer. Get your men mobilised. Meet me at the south exit of Bosst Hall five, and bring two CUVs and a gun carrier. In ten minutes, Captain. Oh, get Trunk to get one of his men in the air, an LSRA, please.’
‘Can I come, sir?’ Raspp asked.
‘Delighted to have you with us, sergeant,’ Zander replied.
Forty-five minutes had passed, and Grainter was getting irritable. ‘I’m not impressed with Zander if his organisation is this slow to react to you being here.’
Kam Major smiled grimly. Well, as close to a smile as she would ever get. ‘I would have expected better, too. Perhaps we’re wrong about this, and he’s dead?’
‘So it appears, though the young Prince has a knack of knowing such things.’ A vehicle decelerated sharply to his left. Kam Major’s attention was drawn to the right. At either end of the alleyway hover-mobiles came to a halt. Four soldiers stepped out of each. There was no mistaking their pitch-black uniforms with the signature riding trousers and their steep visor caps – Sestapol.
Kam Major cursed herself for her naivety in letting them get trapped this way.
‘Oh, crap,’ said Grainter. ‘Sestapol. What, boss? Fight our way out?’
‘I’m not getting caught by these kids,’ she replied. ‘You’ve got your four, and I’ve got mine. But wait until they’re up close. We have a better chance at close quarters. A dummy surrender, then hit them on my lead.’
‘A good answer,’ Grainter said. ‘At least our combined age beats theirs.’
Kam Major’s intended chastisement changed into a full-blown smile. Grainter edged away to hide his grin. ‘Bring it on,’ he muttered quietly under his breath.
The Sestapol soldiers moved towards them tentatively, not showing nearly the level of confidence she expected. They don’t recognise me, do they? she wondered. Eight against two should be in their favour. Why are they waiting?
