Pegasus in Chains (RF VI), Chapter 11

Spoiler Alert: This is a new entry into the Reckless Faith series. The prologue may be found here: https://devonai.wordpress.com/2021/10/26/reckless-faith-vi-prologue/

The southern route into Saffron Canyon City was an overwhelming barrage of sights, smells, and frenetic activity.  The haphazard conglomeration of one-story buildings, shacks, and vendor carts could be identified as the city’s bazaar, as translated from a cock-eyed wooden sign hastily erected where the main road met the perimeter.  A keen eye might have been able to identify the area as originally being residential, but time and necessity had transformed it into a dusty, dirty, and chaotic town square of sorts.  The newcomers kept their long arms slung across their shoulders, a posture that was quickly confirmed as the norm for those already present.  Though it seemed at first glance that violence might break out at any moment, simply observing for a few minutes proved that this was not, or at least rarely, the case.

Vecky was understandably concerned that their cover story would soon be discovered, since they didn’t have any 7.5×50 or whatever caliber of ammunition they had claimed to possess to gain entry.  Adding to this worry was the fact that they had no idea who Shining Beacon was, or their role in the society of the community.  If the guards at the perimeter had contacted them, then their welcome might be rather forcefully abbreviated.  To their benefit, they didn’t appear to stand out with their choice of vestments, since what they were wearing didn’t make them look like newcomers or hostiles.  In fact, it seemed like it would be rather easy to fade into the woodwork and disappear.

Marcon spoke lowly to those who could hear him, which was about half of their group.  “Sentries at ten, four, and seven.”

Vecky looked at the positions he had indicated.  Sure enough, she could see three individuals dressed alike, in robes that could easily conceal a rifle, both standing on balconies or on rooftops.

“Shining Beacon?” whispered Eva.

“Who knows?” replied Marcon.  “Keep an eye on them.  Our best bet is to find a bar or tavern, where alcohol has loosened lips.  In a place like this, it’s the easiest way to get the lay of the land.”

Marcon gave hand signals to the group indicating that they should stick together, and head through the throng of wheeling, dealing, and doubtless deception that the bazaar offered.  Moving into the surging sea of activity, they each kept a tight grip on any of their things that might find a fast-fingered new owner, and strained to locate an establishment that met Marcon’s description.  Helvetios was the first one to point toward a two-story building that looked more like an office peddling insurance policies, and yet as they drew closer, they could see that it had indeed been converted into a public house.  A patio area had been delineated with concrete bollards and yellow rope, which managed to separate the patrons with the stream of traffic just beyond it.

This demarcation probably had a lot more to do with the huge, muscular male that stood by the door, of a species that none of them had ever seen before.  Standing two and a half meters tall, by Vecky’s best estimate, he bore no distinct features that might have made his lineage clear.  As far as she was concerned, he looked like a Terran, the most generic of all races.  Despite their obvious and numerous armaments, he made no move to deny the team entry.

Once inside, the nine of them had to cram themselves into the periphery to fit, without bumping into the patrons that were already present.  The bar area was barely larger than a residential living room, and every square foot was occupied by either tables and tall stools or the bar itself.  There was no room for billiards or even a dart board, and neither was present.  What the place did offer was an impressive selection of beer on tap, with at least twenty jerk levers behind the bar.  A proper neon sign glowed red on the wall, identifying it as the Winged Horse.

“Now what?” asked Vecky.

“Fortune favors the bold,” replied Marcon, then to the rest of the bar, “Drinks are on Shining Beacon!  Let their light forever illuminate Saffron Canyon City!”

Vecky’s heart leapt into her chest, but the crowd’s reaction was what Marcon had hoped for, a resounding cheer and a deluge of orders to the already overworked bartender.

“That was a dangerous move,” said Eva.  “You’re lucky you didn’t get us all killed.”

Marcon smiled.  “You’d have to assume that the guards on the way in were completely bluffing about the Shining Beacon’s influence here.  They thought it would matter to us.  It seemed like a safe bet, if we want to make some friends.”

She shook her head.  “Did Scherer give you carte blanche to run this mission as you please?”

“Cart blansh?”

“Free rein, autonomy, whatever you want to call it.  Perhaps he made a mistake sending us out here without establishing a clear chain of command.”

“He did, though.  Captain Kitsune is in charge.  So far she’s deferred to my experience.  I apologize to both of you if I overstepped by bounds, but this is a dynamic situation and I can’t wait for you guys to reach a quorum every five minutes.  If either of you want to be more assertive, by all means tell me and I’ll stand back.”

Vecky stepped between them.  “I appreciate your input.  But Eva has a point.  We don’t know enough about the Shining Beacon to invoke their name.  Let’s stick to your plan to let our money and alcohol coax more info out of this crowd.”

“Now that sounds more like a ship captain.”  Marcon picked up a stool that was lying on its side and sat down.  “This is your mission, Kitsune.”

Vecky shrugged, and gave the rest of her gold ingots to Eva.  “Get with Cane and Talyn and try to figure out how much this generosity is going to cost us.”

Eva gestured toward the bar.  “They’re already up to their elbows in some kind of cocktail.”

Cane and Talyn had each ordered a large, orange-tinged beverage, and laughed with the bartender while they made a toast to an obscure Camphustian general and clinked their glasses together.

“They were born for this stage of our mission.”

Eva walked over and got the bartender’s attention.  She noticed he had a gas mask in a carrier around his waist.

“I wish your boss hadn’t done that,” he said.  “With all these patrons ordering drinks at different times, how am I supposed to keep track of your total?”

“There are thirty people in here, including my group.  If you give me an average for thirty drinks, I’ll pay now.”

“Fine.”

She worked it out with the bartender and handed over about a quarter of their gold, then rejoined Vecky and Marcon.

“Now what?” asked Vecky.

“Let our two resident schmoozers work the crowd.”

“Those two idiots?” asked Marcon.  “They’re already halfway to inebriated.”

“It’s all an act.  The fact that you already lost confidence in them proves it.”

Marcon unsnapped the retention strap on his pistol holster, and dragged his seat to the far wall.  He motioned at Alsade and Helvetios to come to him.

“Get ready for exfiltration,” he said.

“Your caution is appreciated,” said Vecky, smiling.  “Give it an hour, and Cane and Talyn will know our next move.”

Marcon didn’t say anything in response, only keeping his right hand draped over the grip of his pistol.  The next thirty minutes went by without the violence that he had predicted, and indeed he relaxed quite a bit after he noticed that Cane and Talyn were barely touching their drinks while they engaged in chatting with a random collection of loquacious locals.  Evident to all the team members was how easily they pulled information from them, while retaining their veneer of drunken hayseeds.

Over an hour later, after slapping the backs of a few new friends, the pair came smiling and laughing back to the rest of the group.  Fortunately for both their safety and ease of conversation, the crowd had thinned out considerably.

“Third shift is done in,” said Talyn.

“I was wondering why so many people were getting drunk so early,” said Laurent.

“It’s not just stress relief,” said Cane.  “They believe alcohol can help flush contaminants from their system.”

“I was going to mention that,” said Alsade.  “According to the scanner on my PDA, some of these people were emitting alpha particles from their sweat.  Wherever they’re working, it’s a horrific fate.”

“Let’s not end up in the same situation,” said Marcon.  “What were you able to learn about Shining Beacon?”

Talyn said, “They’re a religious sect, based on the idea that the research center is a conduit to the gods themselves.  No one we talked to mentioned the Kira’To by name, but the way these patrons described the cult’s thralls matches up with what we experienced with the Adherents of Aquila, the followers of Cygnus, and Cassiopeia.”

“What is their role in Saffron City?”

“They’re the main peacekeepers, though I think they fall short of what we would consider a police force.  Though they don’t investigate crimes, they will intervene in major crimes in progress and either execute the alleged perpetrator on the spot, or exile them from the city.”

Cane said, “One guy mentioned that they’re probably short-handed right now as at least two squads of their people left the city earlier today, heading west, so we should be extra cautious.  I’m sure they’re off to find out what happened to the squad we ran into.”

“That’s a safe bet,” said Eva.

“Any leads on element 93?” asked Vecky.

“A family of Z’Sorth merchants run a shop to the north of here,” replied Talyn.  “The guy I spoke to isn’t sure if they have radioactive materials for sale, but it’s where he recommended to start our search.”

“How did he react when you asked about radioactive materials?” asked Marcon.

“He didn’t bat an eye.  I don’t think it was a suspicious request.”

“Good.  Let’s get ready to head out.  Talyn, did he give you an address?”

“No, just a neighborhood and a description of the area.  Finding it will require some trial and error.”

“Threat assessment?  Radioactivity?”

“I didn’t ask.”

“Very well.  Do you two still have your wits about you?”

“It’ll take more than half a Sunbeam for Talyn and me to get fucked up,” said Cane.

“All right.  Captain Kitsune, here is my suggestion.  Alpha and Bravo teams will leave a few minutes apart and head toward the shop.  Alpha team will stay in radio contact and designate rally points every two hundred meters.  If we run into trouble, fall back to the last rally point and we’ll attempt to break contact.  Sound good?”

“Yes,” replied Vecky.

“Good.  Let’s go.”

__________

Woodbury, the capital city of Sylvania, was not a large metropolis, at least by area, but it made up for it with several square blocks of tall buildings clustered in its downtown section.  It bordered on a wide river, with the urban area on both banks, going back only about a mile in each direction before ending abruptly in forest.  When they had flown over it two hours earlier, the crew of the Reckless Faith found the architecture of the city remarkable, not in its beauty, but its uniformity.  The buildings, regardless of their height, were nothing more than monolithic rectangles.

There were also no trees, parks, or any other patches of green within city limits, making it stand out even more in stark contrast to the verdant landscape that surrounded it.  This unusual arrangement made it difficult for them to locate anything resembling a place to park a ship, not that it mattered for them, of course.  If there was a spaceport that serviced the city, it was quite a distance away from the center.  So the ground team had Milly drop them off in an alley just off what turned out to be the financial district, revealing that the city was even more confusing at street level than it was from the air.  The narrow roadways choked off so much sunlight that even in the middle of the morning, street lights were on.

The team this time consisted of John, Ray, Richter, and Devonai.  They had spent the next couple of hours wandering around, trying to look casual, to get a sense for life in the city under the thumb of the Rakhar.  Fortunately for the sake of them blending in, there were still a few off-worlders to be seen here and there, and after eavesdropping on a conversation between two Matesians in a café, they learned that interplanetary commerce was still occurring, albeit with a ton of added red tape.  They also discovered that access to Woodbury was restricted to ground vehicles only, and that a Rakhar cordon was screening all visitors.  This made the team nervous, because they had no way of proving to a patrol that they were supposed to be there, but so far they hadn’t seen any Rakhar at all in this district, soldier or otherwise.

Armed with this knowledge, they had made small talk with the employee behind the counter, between sips of an awful hot beverage that at least looked like coffee.  In response to their queries, she told them that the prime minister of Sylvana had been evacuated to an undisclosed location and had not made any public statements in several days.  When asked about any hint of a resistance movement, she had just shrugged.  Rebuffed, the team returned to the Faith.  Christie was waiting for them in the cargo bay.

“That was mostly a waste of time,” said John, doffing his jacket.  “I’ll tell you about it after I’ve rinsed out my mouth with bleach.”

“It went that well, huh?” Christie asked.  “At least you didn’t get shot at.”

“That’s always a plus.  Let’s get to the bridge.”  The five of them took the port stairs to the top deck, and entered the bridge.  Milly was piloting, and Ari and Dana were at their stations.  “Milly, take us back to our hiding spot, please.”

Milly brought the ship into the air, and headed back toward the small town they had visited earlier.

“Did you boys have fun?” asked Ari.

“Oh, it was a blast.  We have neutral news and bad news.  The neutral news is that we were able to learn that some commercial traffic is being allowed, though it comes with a mountain of paperwork that outside ships are required to complete.  They also have to submit to their people being monitored any time they’re on the planet.  The bad news is that it doesn’t seem likely we’ll be able to gain access to the prime minister, at least not without a much more in-depth attempt at espionage.  I think for now we’re better off trying the next country on our list.”

Dana said, “If this is what we might expect, we’re going to run out of confederates very quickly.”

“We have to try.  Let’s take a lunch break and move on to Pararivula.”

“Before we do that, we have a couple of updates for you.  First, we heard from President Feras.”

“Excellent!  What did he have to say?”

“Nothing other than to confirm that the transceiver is working.  We sent a reply that he also confirmed.  He didn’t volunteer any other info.”

“Okay.  And the other thing?”

“We have a much better idea of what the projectile that almost destroyed us was.”

John sat down in the nearest chair, as did Ray and Devonai.  “Awesome.  Fill us in.”

“It wasn’t easy,” began Ari.  “We only had a split-second worth of data to work with.  As we first surmised, it was a thin metal shell containing super-heated plasma, moving at zero-point-twenty-five c.  It hit us with around four million foot-pounds of energy.  At that speed, we’d have to be at least an eighth of a parsec away to maneuver out of its way in time, or twelve million miles.  That rules out any combat action remotely similar to what we’ve encountered in the past.  In order to survive in the future, we’ll have to be damn sure our invisibility shield is effective, and our NDSS isn’t giving us away.”

“What about any potential countermeasures?” asked Richter.

“Carrying that level of kinetic energy, the only thing that could save us would be some sort of ablative armor.  We have data on the type used on the Fox, and unfortunately for both of us, it wouldn’t be sufficient to counteract such a projectile.  It’s possible that the Rastaban has a type that’s adequate, but none of us thought to scan them or ask for the specs before they left for Vastus.”

“We couldn’t be that lucky,” said Ray.

“Agreed,” said John.  “I realize what I’m asking here, but what if we were able to extrapolate what we know about existing ablative armor, and bolster it to be an effective defense?”

Christie let out a long, slow breath.  “John, I’m not one to say it’s impossible.  If anyone can do it, though, it’s Ari, Dana, and me.  I’m still working on fixing the SRC transceiver; that will have to come first.”

“Can’t you just replicate a new one and interface with that?” asked Devonai.

Christie gave him a hard look.  “Don’t you think that already occurred to me, Kyrie?  The issue is its connection to the orb.  It’s a thousand threads floating in ether, and each one needs to be properly fused.  To quote Captain Miller, each one is a needle in a stack of needles.”

“Sorry.”

John held up his hand.  “Okay.  Add it to the queue.  Our three ships and anyone else who chooses to fight on our side may end up betting their lives on this new technology.  At any rate, we’re not going to do anything until the Fox and the Rastaban return.  If there’s nothing else, I could really use a bite to eat.”

“John, I’m starting to get nervous about our friends.  We should have heard something by now.”

“I know.  I’m sure they’re doing their best.  If they’re not dead yet.”