Fortress of Lies

Erik glanced up at the IV pump. Simple buttons withUP –DOWNarrows controlled the flow rate.

It would be a mercy.

He stared at the pump for what seemed like hours. This man was an enemy. In combat, he would have killed him without hesitation or remorse. Why was this so different?

It just was.

Erik reached up to where the pump hung next to the bag, held it in his hand, and started pressing theUP arrow. He kept pressing, until the numbers reached maximum and stopped.

He looked at the pilot, and realized he’d never learned the man’s name. There was only one name he did know. “Say hello to Sergi for me.”

13

Rampant speculation continues concerning the symbols seen painted in Duke Aaron Sandoval’s flagship as it departed Azha—symbols that are rumored to be associated with the splinter group known as the SwordSworn, a militant faction reportedly loyal to House Davion. Duke Sandoval is Lord Governor of Prefecture IV, and his presence, along with a sizable military force, in Prefecture V is as yet unexplained.

Reports indicate that the symbols were painted on the ship at the Cushman Coating Works facility in Casella shortly before the ship’s departure. Officials at Cushman have declined to comment. The Duke’s forces have had several skirmishes with advancing House Liao forces, and dealt them a major setback on New Aragon. One Senator, who asked not to be identified, is quoted as saying, “I don’t care who he’s loyal to, if he stands between us and the Cappies, he’s a friend of mine.”

–FreeNews Azha

Capital Spaceport, Ningbo

Liampo continent, Ningpo

Prefecture V, The Republic

28 November 3134

It was a landing like Ningpo’s Capital Spaceport had never seen. The huge Excalibur DropShip came out of a north-south polar orbit, rather than the normal west-east orbit. This brought it down across the landmass of the Liampo continent, and nearly over the capital city of Ningbo, rather than across the ocean. This was not only unusual, it was a violation of half a dozen flight rules.

The ship came in steeply, necessitating a hard burn directly over the city that rattled windows well out into the suburbs. Those who came outside to see what the noise was looked up to see a blue sky, dappled with wispy white clouds. Moving from north to south was a huge silver egg, gleaming in the sun, with the blue glare of four mighty fusion thrusters shining from its base.

A diplomatic vessel arriving at the spaceport could be counted on to land in one of the more isolated landing pads, far from prying eyes, but this ship was different. It came in over the pad closest to the crowded terminal so that thousands of eyes were drawn to its glittering, freshly painted beauty.

The ship lined up over the pad and began to lower, tail first. Three hundred meters above the reinforced thermocrete of the pad, it once again did something extraordinary. The ship stopped, and hovered motionless—not only a violation of regulations, but an enormous waste of fuel.

There it paused just long enough for everyone’s attention to focus on the ship. Four thrusters around its midsection began to fire, and the DropShip began to turn gracefully on its axis, like a 16,000-ton ballet dancer. In the terminal, there was a collective gasp, an intake of breath, as they watched the silver egg slowly revolve in front of them, displaying the seventy-meter SwordSworn symbols painted on two sides—an amber disk surrounded by a white circle, representing a dark planet with the burst of a rising sun around it, and in front of it all an upward-pointing sword, its blade overlaid with some mirrorlike material that flashed in the sunlight as the ship turned.

Then, one final flourish. Two of the main thrusters in the base of the great ship, an opposing pair, throttled up. As they did, the two other opposing thrusters throttled down to almost nothing so that there was no net change in thrust and the ship remained perfectly suspended. Then, after a moment, the first two thrusters throttled down, and the other two throttled up to compensate. This continued, back and forth, perfectly timed so that it happened twice per revolution. It was a breathtaking display of piloting skill, which turned the ship into an inverted fountain of dancing fire.

Then, and only then, did the ship settle to the apron, which was now glowing from the sustained heat. Just short of the ground, the mighty landing legs unfolded from its base, just in time to gently kiss the ground.

Those who were there would still talk about it years later, and the holovids would be shown again and again. No one would ever forget they were there the day Tyra