Beyond the Sky: Chapter 5
Schemes Upon Schemes
Princess Takji of Mespreth, eldest child of King Delvar and his late Queen—whatever her name was, Velli kept forgetting. Heir-apparent to the throne. Effective symbol of the slaver class, lounging about in grand palaces without a care in the world.
Velli would risk a lot to strike the head from such a monster.
Parzak’s next statement forestalled her question: “She’s due to come to Trez Yafan soon, tours and schmoozing with the Supreme Leader, that sort of thing.”
“Reminding the puppet who holds the strings,” the other commander added.
“We’ve been piecing together her itinerary, planning as a group and getting the others to hold off on public attacks.”
“Right,” Velli said, and looked to Udan. “You found the guy who fed us the bad intel for that slaver ambush; I was wondering when he’d get put down.”
“None of that for now, not when we have a chance at this.”
Parzak continued, “I can’t tell you everything, of course.” Velli raised her ears. “But we ought to be able to get her in a bind and go in for an attack. Capture if possible, kill otherwise.”
“But,” Velli paused. The thought of going after a head of state like some common slaver inspired some deep-seated revulsion in her. But why? A slaver brutalized a handful of people. Those like Takji did it to entire nations. “What about retaliation? What if we kill her, and the King goes nuclear in revenge?”
“It’s highly unlikely,” replied the other commander. “Any launch would risk provoking Malgie retaliation.”
“More basic things, then. He’ll roll over the land like wildfire!”
“Then we fight!” Parzak grinned. “Think of how many will rally to us, with Mespreth’s brutality on full display!”
That didn’t sit right either, inviting destruction to gain support. But again, a chance to go for the head! Which was better, grinding decades of oppression or a final confrontation?
Velli asked, “Does Headquarters know about this?”
Udan grunted out a laugh. “Headquarters leaks like a sieve, that’s why the Regime leaves it alone. Once we have the Princess, they can help us figure out what to do with her.”
“We must get her first.” Parzak turned to the old civilian.
“My men are proceeding apace,” he said. “We tested the weapons.”
“Excellent. Udan, you will handle the assault. Train your men accordingly.”
An hour or two of discussions on safe houses and possible allies followed, then with little ceremony the participants dispersed by various routes. Velli grinned the whole way back: this was what she enlisted for.
The King’s Eyes building felt even more secretive than Stonecliff Castle. Her car turned off a thoroughfare to a nondescript forest road, then stopped at a checkpoint. A Fesk guard in blue fatigues waved them through, and they parked outside a squat, white-walled structure.
“Wait here,” she said to the driver. Two royal guards followed her inside, to a nondescript lobby in which Toras stood.
“Your Highness.” He bowed. In various rooms were staff at work, Toras followed her gaze and said, “King’s Eyes men. The guards are top operatives from Steel Hand, the highest echelons. I trust all; we may speak freely.”
“In that case, what do you know?” Takji followed him to a table stacked high with boxes and folders.
“Precious little beyond what His Majesty says has been brought up in meetings. Just that, of late, there have been a rash of sightings in Jepsei. The occupation command and military government are quite concerned; they worry it is scouting by the Amalgamation.” He opened a box and began searching through.
Takji asked, “Do you concur?”
“On first impression, no, Your Highness. Reported activity does not fit with what we know of Malgie operations, it would be unlike them to risk their best spyplanes so far from home, in a nation that’s a sideshow compared to Mespreth itself. Moreover, they built two new observation satellites last year alone. They have increasingly less need for overflights.”
“Then who could it be?”
“Perhaps our own military, trying to test a new design by putting it up against our occupation forces. We believe this to best fit the data, but even then there are holes. One thing is certain: this is a reconnaissance operation.” Toras unrolled a map, with red dots representing sightings. “See, they cluster around population centers, military sites. In pilots’ reports, the craft are encountered low to the ground and flee upon sighting.”
“Wouldn’t make much sense for the military to spy on itself. You’re sure it’s not the King’s Eyes?”
“I have the highest clearance, Your Highness. We run many covert operations in the homeland, but this is not one of them.”
“What about the planes themselves?”
“That is where it gets interesting.” He opened a folder and laid out the pictures. “There appear to be two classes of craft. The first is this,” he pointed, “what’s being called the Black Triangle. Delta-shaped, about the size of a small jet, and apparently capable of hovering. The second kind, only recently photographed, is here.”
He handed her a picture, of a blur like a diamond shape with the front elongated. A pair of engines seemed visible at the back.
“That one, Your Highness,” Toras continued, “is of special concern because it may be too small to carry a pilot.”
“You mean it’s remote-controlled?”
Toras raised his ears. “Possibly even a robot, unless its builders managed to cram a Nevi in there.”
“At this point, I’d not be surprised if it held a Shadowstalker. Could it? Be Shadowstalkers, that is?” It would certainly comport with what she knew of their ways, the stealth and fleeing.
“Unlikely, Highness. Ghanat-Tahj is the only developed nation—quasi-nation, that is—to employ Shadowstalkers in industry on any large scale. A spy plane project and foreign overflights would be totally against their established policies, and in any case we have them under strict surveillance. They don’t build anything more advanced than cargo ‘copters.”
“So, in truth, you have no idea?”
He paused. “Sadly, yes. Whoever is sending these things does not want their identity known. Though, we do have some ideas for piercing that veil.”
“Please, enlighten me.”
“Firstly, we ought to set a policy that these craft be targeted with prejudice, that they be pursued as long as possible, and all measures short of nuclear weapons be used to bring them down. Capture one, even in pieces, and the truth of its origins should become apparent.”
“Very well.”
“I will tell Commissar Breval to bring it up in the next meeting,” Toras said. “Support him then.”
Takji raised her ears.
“Furthermore, I suggest you authorize me to deploy a Steel Hand team to Jepsei in advance of our trip. As you may have heard, the Supreme Leader’s government is less than forthcoming.”
There it was. Something she’d hoped to put off for years more: the request to rubber-stamp a black operation, the kind that ended with bodies in unmarked graves and accusations of torture in the dissident press. She took a breath, and said, “All right. But keep it quiet. Information, not fights.”
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